The morning came too soon, and Jas awoke to the soft, familiar sound of birds chirping outside the cabin. It was a momentary comfort, but as they shifted in bed, the weight of the day settled on their chest, heavy and unrelenting. It was Ivy Mae’s birthday. The sense of longing for something more, something better, made everything feel so much harder.
They had no gift. Nothing to offer. No words that could ease the growing tension inside them.
But they couldn’t just let the day go by, couldn’t let Ivy Mae feel the emptiness of what the world had become. The thought of their quiet, shared lives in the cabin—the three of them against it all—was enough to ignite a sense of purpose, if only for today.
Jas slipped out of the cabin quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness that hung in the air. The cabin was still, a peaceful hush hanging over it, and they walked into the barn with a mixture of pride and anticipation.
The mural was there, waiting.
The lavender fields, the sweeping garden scene, the bright colors of hope and life—it felt like the first piece of beauty in a long time. They ran their fingers over the brushstrokes, still amazed at what Roman, of all people, had pulled off. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. It was a gesture. A gift of love, of survival, of understanding.
When Ivy Mae stepped outside, her footsteps soft against the earth, her face lit up as soon as she saw the mural. She froze, blinking, her breath catching in her throat. “What is this?” Her voice was thin, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
Jas’s heart pounded in their chest. They swallowed, suddenly unsure of everything they’d done. But then they saw it—the way Ivy Mae’s eyes shimmered, the way her lips parted, the awe in her gaze. They smiled, tentative but filled with something warm. “Happy Birthday, Ivy Mae. We made this for you.”
Ivy Mae didn’t move at first. She just stood there, gazing at the mural, her expression softening, her lips trembling with emotion. The tears that had been hiding for so long welled up, threatening to fall.
“It’s… it’s beautiful,” she whispered, almost to herself, as if the words couldn’t even fully express what she was feeling.
And then, before Jas could even react, Ivy Mae stepped forward. With a breathless laugh, she wrapped them up in a tight hug. “Thank you,” she choked out, her voice breaking with emotion. “This… this is the best gift I could’ve ever asked for. I… I don’t know what to say.”
Jas stood there, frozen for a moment, the weight of her words sinking deep into their chest. The world, despite its cruelty, despite the pain they all carried, had given them this: a chance to love, to create, to feel like they mattered.
For the first time in a long time, Jas felt the world—despite everything—was just a little bit brighter. It wasn’t perfect, not by any means, but in this small moment, with the sun rising over the fields, they realized something.
Maybe, just maybe, they could still find beauty even in the darkest times.
And Ivy Mae’s tears, as they soaked into their shirt, were the proof of it.