Page 29 of A Virgo's Muse
“I want to give a big shout out to my man, my man, my man,” I said with a teasing grin that made a few people laugh. “Onyx Bradford is the inspiration behind every single piece in this collection.From Control Meets ChaostoEarth Meets Fire, this man became my peace.”
I turned and pulled the first tarp. I was met with gasps, soft oohs, and a few audible wows.
I unveiled each painting one by one. Each piece of art was rich with emotion, warmth, vulnerability, and power. Each told a story—our first night together in paint, his hand at the small of my back, our shared silences, our passion, our pain. But one was still covered.
I motioned toward him. “Onyx, come here.”
He walked toward me without hesitation. The room faded the moment he reached me with those dark eyes locked on mine.
“I love you, Onyx,” I said softly into the mic. “You gave me a spark I thought I lost in that fire months ago. You reminded methat creation doesn’t just come from happiness or pain, it comes from connection.” He blinked, eyes glistening. “I owe every canvas to you. But this one… this one I dedicated to us.”
I pulled the last black tarp, revealing a painting titledSanctuary.
It was the two of us, our bodies intertwined on a canvas, not sexually but spiritually. He was holding me, shielding me with the strength of a man who’d kill for my peace. And I was clinging to him like he was oxygen. It was bold. It was intimate. It was us.
“This is calledSanctuary,” I whispered. “Because that’s what you became for me. You became a safe haven when the storms of the real world got too loud.”
He stepped forward, pulling me into his arms. I felt his chest rise and fall. Then his body began to shake slightly.
Tears—he was crying. The paintings and my words evoked the emotion. I was glad that I was the cause of it. I hated the stereotype that men were less masculine if they cried. My man was crying, and I was going to hold him like a baby if he wanted me to.
“I don’t cry,” he murmured into my ear, voice cracking. “But I ain’t never had nobody love me out loud like this before. Nobody.” He whispered the last part like it was a secret. His hand slid up to cup the back of my head as he looked down at me. “I appreciate you, baby, for giving me room to be soft, for seeing the shit I try to hide, and for loving the real me, not the man the streets talk about or the one the shadows feared.”
He took a deep breath, kissed my forehead, then pulled back just enough to meet my eyes.
“I got a surprise for you.”
“Oh, Lord,” I teased, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“I’m serious,” he said, pulling out a small envelope from his jacket pocket. “Tonight ain’t over.”
I took it with trembling fingers.
“What is it?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” he said with a smirk. “But just know I meant what I said… I’d tell the whole world what you mean to me. And this next part? You’ll never forget it.”
I didn’t know what he had planned, but with Onyx, I didn’t have to. I just knew it would be unforgettable.
She called me her sanctuary.And in that moment, it hit me harder than any bullet, louder than any siren, more sacred than any prayer I ever whispered under my breath hoping for peace.
Desire Howard just told the world I was her safe space. Me—a man who’d done too much dirt to pretend he was some kind of hero, a man with shadows longer than his résumé. A man who never thought he’d deserve something pure.
She handed me the mic. Her hand trembled as she did, tears streaking down those beautiful cheeks, and I wrapped my fingers around hers like it was second nature. Because at this point… it was.
I took a deep breath. The weight of the moment pressed against my chest, but I wasn’t scared. Nah. For once in my life…I was sure. I brought the mic to my lips and turned to her… just her. I couldn’t even see the crowd anymore. Just Desire.
“My name isn’t important right now,” I started, my voice low but steady. “But some of you already know who I am. Some of y’all know me as Onyx from Merrburry Courts. Others know me from the rec center. Some know what I used to be out there. And maybe you had a reason to be scared of that man. Maybe you still do.”
I paused, squeezing her hand.
“But Desire wasn’t. She saw me, the real me, before I was even ready to be seen.”
Desire looked at me, eyes glistening. Her lips parted like she was trying to breathe through the ache in her chest.
“I ain’t never been good at talking about feelings,” I admitted, chuckling lightly. “I was raised to survive, not to love. And even when I had everything else, the money, cars, the power… I didn’t have peace. I didn’t have purpose.”
I turned back toward the crowd briefly, but my eyes landed right back on her.
