I started dating my girlfriend Cara this past winter, right after turning 23. We'd known each other in high school, our respective circle of friends overlapping frequently, but we lost touch after graduation.
We began texting after running into each other at a mutual friend's New Year's Eve party, and quickly started dating.
Our work schedules were different enough that we weren't spending every spare minute around one another, something that I felt had extended the honeymoon phase of our relationship just a tad. And even though I realized early on that Cara wasn't someone I'd end up falling madly in love with, we still had a lot of fun during the time we made for one another.
Both of us were gym rats, so we would frequently work out together, and since we still shared a lot of the same friends that we had since high school, our nights out bar hopping and clubbing as a group became a ritual almost every weekend.
To top it off, Cara was a bombshell. Tall and leggy, her pale skin and soft, voluptuous body contrasted my tanned, muscular one. The hours she had spent in the gym had gifted her with a nice, shapely ass, which was the sexiest part of her body in my opinion. I loved watching it bounce while she rode me reverse cowgirl style, a favorite position of mine that wasn't used nearly as often as I'd like.
Cara was quite tame in the bedroom, another way in which we contrasted each other, and while I definitely enjoyed the sex, there were times when I wished she'd be more adventurous.
That was easier said than done, however. She still lived at home, and while I shared an apartment with a buddy I went to college with, we spent the night at her place about half the time, meaning we needed to keep the bedroom noises minimal. Not exactly the best conditions to explore her freakier side, that's for sure.
Given that we spent a decent amount of time at her place, and ever the pleasing and dutiful boyfriend I was attempting to be, I made the effort to get to know her family early on. Her folks were in their mid-fifties and pleasant enough people who had the good graces to stay out of our hair when they were home.
Then there was her younger brother, Evan. I didn't quite know what to make of Evan at first. Even though he was two years younger than us, I only vaguely remembered him from high school as a short and quiet kid.
In the years since, however, he'd grown a lot taller, and was only a few inches shorter than my height of 6'1. Although he appeared thin, his body was often obscured by the dark, oversized clothing he usually wore, which matched the black polish on his nails and, along with the soft, blonde curls that framed his face, gave him an androgynous, almost feminine, look.
Despite the changes in appearance that comes with passing through your teenage years and entering early adulthood, Evan still remained quiet and shy, appearing standoffish in response to my attempts to get to know him.
But Cara and I were still in that early stage of our relationship where I felt like I had to show how committed I was by proving how much she mattered to me, so I tried a bit harder to make some kind of connection with her brother, mostly just to show I cared enough about her to try.
An art student at the local college, he was almost always sketching when I was over at their house, and I asked him about it one afternoon while the three of us were in the living room together.
Cara and I were watching TV on the love seat while Evan sat on the couch adjacent to us. He had a look of intense concentration on his face, his long sleeves pushed back to reveal the pale white of his skin underneath as he gracefully dragged the pencil tip across the paper of his sketchbook with long, nimble fingers. He'd pause occasionally to sweep his soft, blonde curls out of his eyes and off to the side, something that always made me grateful for deciding to keep my brown hair in a short crew cut.
"Hey Evan, what're you always drawing?"
His blue eyes peered at me over the top of his sketchbook for several seconds before he offered a casual shrug.
"Usually people. Sometimes, I'll draw an animal or a character from something, but I usually stick with people."
"Any particular reason why?"
He shrugged again, "I dunno, people are more challenging to draw I guess."
"How so?"
"Well," he began, "for starters, you have to make sure to include the finer details. Beauty marks, scars, those sorts of things. But the real trick is capturing emotions and body language. Everyone expresses emotions and body language in their own unique way, which can be tricky to put to paper."
The more he talked, the more animated he became. I could tell he really had a passion for art from the way he spoke of it, low key excitement filling his voice and a tiny spark flashing behind his eyes.
I smiled at him encouragingly. Looks like I finally found a way to get him to open up.
"That's awesome, man. Can I see some of your stuff?"
His eyebrows slowly rose, "Seriously?"
"Yeah, come show me," I patted the seat next to me and he shuffled over.
"I just started sketching in this book so I don't have much of it filled out yet," he explained, flipping to the first page.
I leaned in closer to him, getting a whiff of his lavender shampoo in the process, and gazed at a pencil drawn image of his and Cara's mom laughing.
"Holy shit," I exclaimed. "It's like she's looking right at me."
"You think so?" His eyes shifted to the side, watching me as I took in the sketch.
"Fuck yeah, dude. I can almost hear her laughter in my head. You drew her perfectly; the laugh lines around her mouth, the way her eyes crinkle. This is incredible."
I shook my head, genuinely impressed. I didn't know much about art, but I knew when it was good and Evan's was great.
"Thank you," he demurred, shyly glancing away with a small smile while a blush crept into his cheeks.
"Show me some more."
He flipped to the next page.
"This is my friend Drea," he tapped the left page with his thumb, on which was a drawing of a black girl with dreads staring down at her phone, an inquisitive look on her face.
"And this is her dog, Otto."
Glancing to the right, I stared at a border collie who seemed to be looking up at me, happy and desperate to please.
"Beautiful dog."
"I have another drawing of him in here somewhere," Evan mumbled.
He began flipping through the book until I held up a hand to stop him, recognizing a character from one of my favorite anime.
"Whoa, great job with Gendo," I said.
"You watch Evangelion?"
I nodded my head and met his eyes, the surprise evident in them.
"It's one of my favorites," he said.
"Mine too."
"You watch a lot of anime?"
"A decent amount."
"I'm watching this one right now that's pretty good--"
"Nerds," Cara coughed beside me, holding a fist up to her mouth in exaggeration.
Evan rolled his eyes and I smiled at him.
"So what were you drawing just now?" I nodded down to the sketchbook in his lap.
"Oh, well... um, I guess I can show you," he reluctantly flipped a few more pages before tentatively tipping the drawing towards us. "It's not...um finished yet."
I could feel Cara peeping over my shoulder, joining me in looking at a half finished sketch of the two of us sitting on the couch, Cara's head resting on my shoulder and our hands intertwined as we watched TV.
I glanced up at Evan and could see the hopeful apprehension in his eyes.
"Wow, that's--"
"Um, I do not look like that," Cara interrupted.
I turned toward her as she scowled at the drawing.
"Oh," Evan startled, "it's not really finished ye--"
"Even if it was," she cut him off, "it still wouldn't look like me. I'm definitely not that wide around the shoulders and my neck isn't that thick."
"Babe, you're crazy. It looks just like you."
"So you think I actually look that heavy then?" She raised her eyebrows at me, an accusatory tone in her voice.
There was a beat of silence as I chose my next words carefully.
"No, of course not. I just meant that you're seeing something that isn't there."
She frowned, unsatisfied with my answer.
"Cara, I can change it--" Evan began.
