There's a Lump in My Tail

A Lump In Pictures.

It was three days later when the spell finally began to weaken and Ye Hua was able to lift it himself, though rather than tell her, he instead returned to bed and slept.  It was after lunch, so to be sleeping so early, did intially worry her, but after a quick check of his energy, she realized he had finally gotten rid of it and of course, his body was exhausted so sleeping was definitely appropriate.

She also knew he would not awaken for the rest of the day so it gave her an opportunity to inspect this home of his without him hovering over her.  Ye Hua was an affectionate man, one who liked to touch and hug all the time, where as she liked her personal space and having been in his arms more often than not, the freedom to really explore hit the moment she left him snoring.

The barrier was still around the little cabin though rather than keeping it up in order to keep her in, Ye Hua explained that the Mortals whos cultivation was high, were able to access the Mountain in some areas, and his cabin being one of them.  Also, the forest was thick with beasts and monsters and though both of them were more than capable of dealing with them, Ye Hua deemed it safer to just remain hidden so as to maintain their privacy.

Unfortunately, because the barrier did not leave much of the forest to explore, she soon found herself back at the house and bored seeing as she had already studied much of the house.  But not wanting to disturb Ye Hua who was by that stage in a deep slumber having checked on him, she instead took to exploring the cupboards which she had not had a chance to do.

Finding all manner of books, she quietly set about losing herself to years of etchings that Ye Hua had painted and drawn over the years.  Most were small areas of the forest that had taken his attention at the time, a nearby brook, a cluster of wild flowers and even the tree tops swaying in what looked to be a brisk breeze.   Though now and then, the forest animals would appear.  A deer frozen in time stood rigid and wary on the canvas, a rabbit in full flight, a stray cat resting on a tree branch and even a monkey sitting idly in the deck chair on the veranda.  

Laughing at the cheeky grin on its face, she suddenly realized she was learning something entirely new about this husband of hers.  Not only could he paint and draw exceptionally well, but the expressions he caught were almost lifelike, it was incredible the amount of detail he was able to catch, that for a moment, she could almost imagine herself there watching behind him as he caught a little moment in time, as if captivated by the little things that most would not notice.

But it was the people he drew that captivated her.  He caught ordinary people doing the most mundane things yet on his canvas, they could have been the only person for miles, because his artwork became far more detailed.

There was an elder woman carrying a pail of water back from a stream.   Droplets of the precious liquid sloshed a little over the sides which he seemed to highlight more than the stooped back and the tired eyes, which gave the impression that the effort she was putting into getting her pail of water home would be in vain if she lost anymore of it.   Also among his drawings were farriers shoeing horses, a tavern owner closing up for the night, a beggar laughing at a street performance and a multitude of other ordinary people acting out a moment in time.

Only the more books she pulled out, the more of his life unfolded before her.  There were paintings of the Palace, the world leaders in full debate, his Grandfather sleeping on the throne, his mother mending a robe by hand, his father working in his study and even the Lightening God punishing some poor soul for a misdeed that suggested his crime was dire going by the look of regret in his eyes as the first lightening bolt flared down towards him.

Only it wasn't until she reached the last few books, that her attention was completely taken by paintings and etchings of herself.

It seemed, that in only a few weeks, Ye Hua had been captivated by her because every single one of their meetings were there on the pages.  Her flushed cheeks, her face in full rapture, the tears, the bathing, their first real date, and even the bracelet he had given her, which she was still wearing.

And within each picture of herself, she imagined the smile on his face as he lost himself to a woman he seemed to have a fascination with or even liked far more than he was prepared to admit.  And she reached this conclusion, because no other person covered the page of an entire book but her.

Smiling softly, not even the explicit details of their love making phased her, because they were private moments he had not thought to share with anyone else, and possibly not even her had she not found them for herself.  Because in his pictures were one little detail that repeated itself on every page, and without having to be told, she knew that it was representation of himself.

In the left hand corner was a single rose and she noticed the way it would be either in full bloom or closed going by the main picutre.  If she was happy, the flower bloomed, if she was not, the flower closed.  Only the very last picture he drew, was of her anger which she realized he must have drawn while she was asleep on the very first day she arrived at his cabin, because not only was she asleep on their bed with the big old fashioned canopy, but the flower looked withered and tired while the rest of the flora he had added looked sad and lonely and suddenly a lump began to form in the back of her throat.

His ability to portray emotion in his pictures was frighteningly real that for the longest moment, she merely sat staring at the painting lost in thought.  In fact her thoughts had taken her back to that very first day she had met that lump under the tree.  Back then, the excitement and fear were all too real, and he had managed to capture it perfectly, so in many ways he was well aware of what he was doing to her, and she may have angered all over again, only the rose behind her suggested that he was very much invested in a future with her, because as the days past, his rose grew in height, its colours deepened and all the while it steadily blossomed.

She had no idea how to even approach him with what she had discovered or even if she should, seeing as his books had been kept in the low cupboards and out of sight.  But she really did want to talk to him about his feelings for her, because as yet the had not.  Rather he showed her how he felt.  In fact, neither of them were really vocal about their feelings for each other, it just didn't seem necesssary when their embraces said everything that words couldn't.

But still, talking about what they truly felt was a healthy way to move forward, and no sooner was that thought firmly planted in her mind, then she finally put all of his books back before once again checking on him.  

Curled up on his side, he looked the calmest she had ever seen him that she fully regretted not learning to paint, which was something that Zhe Yan was very competent in and had even offered to teach her.  Only she had never been able to sit still long enough to anything unless it involved wine.  

He looked happy and at peace and in her mind she could envisage that rose of his once again in full bloom, and suddenly that lump in her throat grew a little bigger because she no longer wanted to see that rose closed or withered ever again.  She wanted to see it full bloom on a page all by itself.  And as the lump gave way to tears, she quietly slipped into the bed beside him and drew him into her arms.  

He stirred a little, but remained asleep as she softly and most tenderly stroked his hair while willing that rose that lay hidden deep within him to blossom and flourish while her tears quietly slipped over her cheeks and into his hair.   

From that moment on, she swore to herself, that in the years to come, that rose would never wither again no matter how many lumps got in their way.  Then closing her eyes, she finally fell asleep truely happy for the first time in her life.