EIGHTEEN (II)

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   Vincent sat on Ethan's bed, waiting patiently as he watched the boy pace. "Listen, I know you're supposed to wait until Christmas morning, or whatever, but it's two A.M. That's basically the same thing...right?"

   They'd been in the room for about fifteen minutes, and Ethan had yet to show Vincent the thing he dragged him away from the living room for. At first, the boy was excited, but seeing how nervous Ethan was, had him slightly scared. 

   Was Ethan about to show him a dead body?

   Ethan took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his closet. He rummaged around for a few minutes, then returned with a small, blue box. Vincent raised an eyebrow skeptically.

   "Before you say anything, this isn't your actual gift. It's just—I don't know—a little something special? That sounded corny," Ethan grimaced as he dropped the box in Vincent's lap. "Look, it's stupid, I know. It's also not very good, but I tried, okay?"

   Vincent was beyond confused. He didn't know what to make of Ethan's words, so instead, he turned his attention to the box. Tentatively—he was still worried it would be an explosion of some sort—he opened it, setting the lid aside.

   Slowly, he picked the sketch paper up, inspecting it closely. Letting out a gasp, he almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. He ran his fingers across it gently, trying to carve the texture into his memory. It was, hands down, the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. 

   "Ethan," he whispered

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   "Ethan," he whispered. "Did you paint this?"

    Ethan nodded shyly. "Yeah, I mean...It's the Starry Night, and—and you're Van Gogh, get it? I thought it would be cute..." he rambled self-consciously.

   "Is that supposed to be us?" Vincent asked, pointing to the little boys on the cliff. 

   "Remember the first time you came over? When we looked at the stars with my telescope? Yeah..." his voice sounded small. "Sorry it's not that great," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

   "Yeah, it's not great," Vincent agreed, and Ethan silently winced. Ouch.

   "It's perfect," he corrected, turning to face Ethan. "And I'm not just saying that. This is the best gift I've ever received. No one's ever put so much thought and work into giving me something. This is just...wow. I really don't know what to say, Ethan."

   Ethan blushed, smiling bashfully. "I'm glad you like it. Took me ages."

   Before Ethan knew what was happening, Vincent had wrapped his arms around the jock's neck and embraced him. Ethan froze for a second, then circled Vincent's waist and hugged him back. "I love it," his voice was muffled against Ethan's skin. "Thank you."

   Vincent pulled back, only so he could appreciate the painting some more. Honestly, for someone who had as little experience with painting as Ethan did, it was pretty impressive. Sure, the strokes might have been a bit too thick and the stars weren't perfect, but at least it looked somewhat similar to the original. 

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