Well, this is me practicing two-point perspective. Seriously, this gives me heart palpitations.
Oh well. If I want to draw stuff, I have to be able to make backgrounds sometimes.
Here’s a bit of Diana:
The Proposal, Con’t
“Well, we were still in this house and you changed a ton, Di. Diana. Um, like, you were just older and more like you’d been through a war or something. You barked orders at me a lot, and did a lot more cleaning. We renovated most of this house, and the aliens brought materials. I’m sure you were really there for most of it, but okay. I’ll keep talking like this, since you want me to,” Stuart said, giving Diana another scrutinizing glare.
Diana smiled in what she was sure was an enigmatic way and Stuart rolled his eyes.
“The aliens dropped off materials and books, like, home construction books, and we tore apart half the house and couldn’t put it back together again. I wasn’t very helpful, honestly, and you kept getting frustrated and hammering things, so the aliens just plopped us down in a different house one day. Like, we fell asleep here and woke up there. We were in different rooms, of course, since you said that thing about kissing,” Stuart said.
“Tell me, Stu. I want all of the story,” Diana said.
“Yeah, okay. This is stupid, though. I know you were there for that part, at least. You said that I was a selfish and absorbent kind of sponge who would get worked up and try to sleep with you if we kissed at all, and that we weren’t going to have sex unless we got married, and we couldn’t get married, of course, so that was just the same thing as saying we’d never sleep together,” Stuart said.
Diana waited, and Stuart looked at her and grimaced when she didn’t say anything.
“So we were in separate rooms and woke up in a new house, and you were completely pissed at the aliens and argued that we had to come back here, so they brought us back and we worked on fixing up this house some more. We made more progress on putting things together the right way, though it was ridiculously difficult and we had to use weird power tools from the aliens, and then one day you’d managed to fix a wall that you’d hammered though by accident and you were so happy that you kissed me,” Stuart said, looking kind of nervous.
Diana smiled encouragingly and Stuart blushed.
“And I knelt down and asked you to marry me, and you said no, and then we kissed some more. And the next morning we woke up in the other house, the new house, and there were chairs and decorations for a wedding set up outside, though no people aside from a preacher, and I don’t think he was actually there or real, and we got married because the aliens said they’d kill me if you didn’t say yes. You said yes and we got married, and then you said you’d live in one half of the house and I had the other half, and you said we’d never kiss again. And then,” Stuart said, drawing a deep breath and letting out a heartfelt sigh, “we woke up the next morning and you were pregnant. I mean, we were in separate rooms. We didn’t have–have sex or anything, but the–I don’t think that part was real. You seemed pretty surprised today about having been pregnant, and also when you were pregnant you weren’t, um, as vehement about things as you’d been before. You were, like, more docile? And we did cuddle a fair bit while you were pregnant, though I was in the tube through this whole time and I never felt you, or anything but the plastic of the tube. The end,” Stuart said.
“How pregnant was I at the start?” Diana asked.
“When you woke up pregnant? You said you were probably in the second trimester, because you were showing already. After that it was just months of waiting, and then there was another big gap at the end and there was just a baby in a little bouncy chair, and you were all floppy and not-pregnant, but fat. And then we just lived together with the baby for almost a year before you started shouting at the ceiling one day, and now we’re here. I mean, that was the end, was you shouting like that,” Stuart said.
“Huh,” Diana said.
“Yeah. You’re all snippy and angry when you’re pregnant, though,” Stuart said.
“It wasn’t really me. I wasn’t there for any of the pregnant parts,” Diana said.
“What about afterwards, with the baby?” Stuart asked.
“I won’t answer that. You need more sleep, Stu, and I want time to think. Go back to sleep,” Diana said, moving over to lean against the headboard and taking Stuart’s hand into her own.
Stuart closed his eyes with relief and then opened them and tried to look as if he didn’t care much about holding hands.
“That’s cute, honey. You’re going to be all stoic and brave for me? You are in love with me, aren’t you?” Diana asked.
Stuart made a noncommittal noise and buried his face in the pillow. Diana laughed and squeezed his hand.
“Sleep longer this time, sweetie. I’m going to think about things,” Diana said, grabbing up her novel.
“You can’t think and plan if you’re reading,” Stuart said, scooting closer.
“Back up, Stu. Stay over there. I’m holding your hand, not functioning as a human teddy bear. I can read and plan at the same time. Go to sleep,” Diana said, and she watched Stuart move in an irritable fashion back to his first spot and close his eyes with several dramatic sighs.
Diana hid her smile and found her place in her book, and Stuart passed out again without meaning to. Poor kid, Diana thought, and she started to plan out an approach to rehabilitate Stuart’s character and teach him empathy.
You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, Hans is babysitting a little girl who has gotten chocolate all over her face.