Hazel's POV:
-4 months later-
My five-year-old self would be extremely proud of the person I am today.
Today marks the start of my last year of med school, and my life has changed so fucking much since then.
For starters, I look at the mirror at myself, in shorts and a crop top, and I like the weight on my body.
I walk out and smile at one of my best friends in the kitchen. She slides me my overnight oats.
"For you, Zelly," she says smiling. I grin.
Yeah, the three of us are fucking inseparable and Zoey and Lyss did move into the same apartment complex as us. And we're all on the same floor.
But, we all have our separate apartments. It's different, yet the exact same.
I eat my oats and then go and paint. Zoey comes into my room and tells me it's time for me to go. She's right. It is.
It's my off day, so I walk to our local coffee shop where I see the love of my life sitting at one of the tables with my order sitting by my spot. I sit down across from her.
She still wears her scrubs from her shift. And she looks tired, but her eyes light up when she sees me.
"Hi baby," I say grinning.
"Hey, my love. Paint this morning? It's on your hands." I laugh.
"Yes, I did. It was a picture of us!" I say smiling. She grabs it and links her fingers with mine. She kisses my hand.
"I love you," she says.
"I love you more." She shakes her head. I nod.
"Never, Hazel. Shut up."
"I didn't even say anything!" I say grinning. We stand up and walk out holding hands.
"What do you want to do today?" She asks. "I do have to go home and nap. But, afterwards, my day is open all for you."
"I want to go to the art museum."
"And that we will do." I grin. She kisses me.
"My beautiful baby," she whispers. "I'm so glad I met you."
"I'm even more glad." She shakes her head. We go inside our apartment. I sit on the couch and turn on the TV. National Geographic is airing a show about penguins in Antarctica.
I smile and leave it on. I love you too, dad. I hope you're proud of me.
"And as you can see, the dad penguin is so proud of his daughter for something as little as sliding on the ice. You would think she's a doctor."
I laugh and grin. I lay down and hug my penguin stuffed animal that I got in the mail for my 21st birthday in August.
---------
Later that day, Natalia and I are at the museum. And we're mesmerized by this painting, because it's almost like it's us.
The panting is two girls. One's a redhead, the other's a brunette. But their child selves are also in the picture.
The redhead is helping the child version of the brunette take a picture of a flower. And the brunette is helping the child version of the redhead paint.
The title of the painting?
H and N.
"Natalia, I think this painting might be about us."
"The artist died in 1970," she says.
"There's no way," I say.
"It's known," a worker says coming up to us. "That the author of this painting was gay. She was the redhead. And her lover, the brunette, was the one her gave her all of her artistic inspiration."
"And her lover loved photography. And she said she painted this to show how they healed each other's inner child."
"Holy shit," Natalia whispers.
"The artist died in a car crash in her early 20s. And shortly after her loved committed suicide."
"Well hell," I say.
"She was big on reincarnation. The artist."
"What was her name?"
"Hazel."
"What was her lovers name...?" Natalia asks.
"Natalia."
A/N - holy shit or holy shit?
I love all of you SO much. Thank you for loving me and this book. It's because of YOU I flourish. I wouldn't be able to do this without you. Thank you so much.
❤️❤️❤️