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Easter Sunday was usually a quiet day for Arthur; he’d get up, have breakfast, and then go about his day. Maybe he’d bring Peter some chocolates if he felt up to it.
Each year felt the same. Like his life has not changed much.
He got up to grab himself another cup of tea. Arthur flicked on the electric kettle; it was black and simple. He’s had it for years, and it always worked like usual. Arthur set down his mug when he saw something bright pink behind his sugar bowl.
“What the hell is this…” he murmured, reaching out to grab it. It was a pink plastic egg—one of those ridiculously cheap ones.
“When did you get here?” He whispered, popping it open. A small piece of paper slipped out of it.
Unfolding it, Arthur began to read it out loud, “I carrot believe it’s Easter already.”
He recognized the handwriting. It was from Alfred.
He paused, “That’s ridiculous…when would he have been able to…”
Another one stuck out to him in the corner of his eye, a blue one.
It was hidden on the top of his cabinet. Standing up on his tiptoes, Arthur reached up and grabbed it. He popped it open.
He was about to read it when his tea kettle screamed, the water was ready.
Returning to his tea, Arthur set the blue egg down on the counter as he fixed his tea mug.
How many of these eggs were in his house?
And how did Alfred manage to do this last night when he was over, without Arthur knowing?
After about an hour of looking around, he found about twenty eggs. He didn’t want to open all of them, in fear of more bad puns. The older man was too tired for things for stuff like this.
One rolled off his table and popped open. He read it.
“This holiday has me feeling a little scrambled- oh Alfred, stop it.” He huffed, though a trace of a smile appeared on his face. His green eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. He knew his boyfriend was a jokester, but these puns were just bad. They weren’t even good.
There had to be a good one in there. Sighing, he sat down at his kitchen table and began to crack each of them open one by one, and began to read.
Arthur put the particularly funny ones in one pile. And the bad ones, he would scrunch up his nose and push them as far away from him as possible.
Until he was at the last egg. It was a pastel green one. He popped it open. The piece of paper was longer than the others.
Maybe it was a drawing?
No that would be absurd!
He unfolded it and his eyes widened, it was a letter.
To my sweetheart,
Happy Easter. I’m sure you found all the eggs by now if you got to this one. If not, you really need to work on your searching skills. Maybe pick up a word search book or something. Start small. And then move up to Where’s Waldo? Then we can figure out a plan from there. Baby steps for my baby.
Anyways, I wanted to tell you something I feel like I don’t tell you enough. I do love you. I love that you’ve been with me for these past few years. You’ve always made my life a bajillion times better. I can’t count on every finger in the world of how many times you have changed my life for the better.
I know I couldn’t hang out this Easter due to dumb family stuff, but I wanted to give you something fun to do. Don’t ask how I managed this last night, it was a pain in the ass. But since I love you, I did it anyway.
Alfred didn’t sign the ending of it. Not that he would, there was barely any space left on the note.
A smile appeared on Arthur’s face; he folded up the note and tucked it into his pocket.
“Idiot.” He mused, with a sparkle in his eyes.
Although his Easter was quiet and he was by himself, this made his whole morning more exciting. This brought him joy. A fuzzy feeling engulfed him.
Now he definitely had to get Alfred back next year.