He was standing there, right outside my door, a smile on his face, luggage in his hands.
"Bri...Brian, what are you doing here?" I stuttered, shellshocked.
He smile turned brighter as he set down his briefcase and duffel bag and embraced me, kissing me softly on the top of my head.
"Can't a boyfriend surprise his lover with a visit?" he replied in question, linking our hands together, giving me a reaffirming squeeze, as if to tell me that he was here, and this wasn't a dream.
I kissed his neck softly before pulling back.
"I wish you had called. I've got a show. I'm quite busy." I admitted, frowning slightly.
He pouted his Brian Kinney pout.
"Can't you reschedule?" he queried, sadness in his voice.
Sadness? Brian Kinney showing emotions is hard enough to believe, but sadness?
I shrugged, turning away from him and going back to my artwork.
"You can't just show up here, Brian." I said rather harshly.
I glanced at him, wanting to see his expression, expecting him to be emotionless.
He was everything but.
"You just can't." I managed, brushing my paintbrush casually along the poster I was painting.
I felt him wrap his arms around me from behind, kissing me softly on the neck.
I pulled away from his grasp, angry with him, for not calling, all this time, and for suddenly appearing at my doorstep.
I held my paintbrush up at him in warning.