Work Text:
Feet pounding rhythmically on the pavement, joined by another set. It’s early morning, or early for a Sunday with no school, but it’s good to keep a routine. It’s good to keep the body rhythm going. Jogging every morning it doesn’t rain, and even then sometimes bringing an umbrella. Stumbling across a jogging partner for those Sunday mornings. Making it a race, a competition. It’s more of an even match on land. Laughing together, enjoying the morning jogs with each other. Noticing how he smiles. Thinking about the exact way the corners of his mouth turn up and you know he isn’t taking you seriously. Or maybe he thinks it’s nice when you get so passionate about little things. The exact shade of his eyes is burned in your brain. You can clearly imagine the exact timbre of his voice even if you haven’t seen him for a few days. You’re noticing everything and memorizing everything and realizing just how much he’s on your mind. He misses a Sunday and it feels incomplete. One day not so much a confession as a proclamation and the curve of his lips that you memorized so well are on yours in an answer.