Archive of Our Own ^beta

I like it when you laugh.

I like how the corners of your lips turn upwards and the skin around your eyes crinkles and you close your eyes and let out those sounds from deep within your chest like you've never been hurt before.

I like it when you laugh at my stupid jokes.

You always laugh at my jokes, not because you want to humor me but because you genuinely find them funny. I always try extra hard for you because you deserve someone to make you laugh.

I like it when you smile, when that cute and silly grin splits your face in half and you get those dimples on your chin that only appear when you smile really wide.

I like it when you smile because of me, because I did something you find 'cute' or 'adorable' even though it really only is embarrassing or stupid.

I like it when you make me smile, or laugh, because on some days you're the only one who can.

I like how you always make me feel like everything I do is a marvel.

You compliment each and every one of my paintings and drawings, even my little sketches created out of boredom in the corner of the notes I took during class.

You look at me like I was formed out of pure magic, like I am somehow able to convince you that eternal things do exist.

I like the little scar next to your right eyebrow that you got when you slammed your head on the edge of a table when we were drunk on cheap wine and so desperately in love with each other.

You were bleeding like crazy and you were in pain but you held my hand and smiled through it because I was so scared.

Because somhow you always seem to be able to be brave for the both of us.

I like how you always ask me if you can kiss me before you do, even when you're already leaning in and are staring at my lips with that dopey look in your eyes, but I know that you would always stop if I said the word.

I love the concentrated look on your face when you read or work, how your glasses that you never wear in public slip down the bridge of your nose and you don't even notice.

I love how your whole face lights up when you talk about something you're passionate about, like books or your studies or me, especially when you think I'm not around or when you know exactly that I am.

I like how your voice gets one octave higher and infinitely sweeter when you talk to our dog or any other dog you meet on the street or in the park and how you wouldn't shut up about that cute puppy you saw at the pet store until I finally gave in and agreed to adopt it.

You were in your own little bubble for weeks from then and I loved watching you raise our little pup.

I love the determined look you get when you descend down my body and between my legs, dead set on making me feel like I'm the most loved and desired person in the whole universe.

I like the little pouch of fat on your belly that's only visible when you come home after a long day of work and finally drop your so well-kept composure to slouch down on our couch.

It makes you infinitely more human, and infinitely more attractive to me.

I love how sometimes your gaze keeps dropping down to my lips when I talk and your eyes glaze over because you're dying to kiss me but you don't, because you want me to know that I and everything I say is important to you.

I like how your hair smells when I'm nuzzling into your neck in bed, like roses and lavender and the sweet chewing gum I used to love when I was a child.

I love that you're so strong and independent but always want me to hold you at night, because sometimes the world is too big and too loud for you.

I love the childlike wonder in your eyes when we're out in the woods and how your feet seem to carry you on their own accord, but you still tun around to look for me even when you're so absorbed in the beauty of nature; and I am absorbed in the beauty that is you now and you when you were younger, probably all serious and quiet, because life never was kind to you;

but you still loved, small and behind closed doors, but you did, tirelessly.

I like how you talk about me and all of my flaws, my scars and stretch marks; how you kiss them every night before we go to sleep and call them 'beauty marks' because you really think they're wonderful, and you start to make me believe that, too.

I love the way you love. Like a wildfire, with an all-consuming flame so bright that it rules out all the others.

And you do that even though no one ever showed you how to love.

I love how your gaze gets soft when you hold a new-born child,

and I can see that your heart aches because that child is going to grow up with love and you never had that.

And I know, that one day, you and me will have a little miracle of our own, and you will get to give them all the fierce love you still have left in your heart, and give them a future better than your past.

I like it when you remove your make up in the evenings and then look so much softer, without your precise eyeliner and the dark lines defining the already sharp contours of your face, so vulnerable and real when you're not hidden behind the layers of paint obscuring your true self, built up as defensive walls;

and I love that I'm the only one who gets to see you like that.

I like that I know all the little details about you, and you know all the little details about me;

and I love that you always remember them.

You remember how I like my tea, with two pieces of sugar and no milk and let steep for a little too long.

It's not a big deal for you, because you are attentive like that, but it means the world to me.

I like how you taste;

always like sweet mint, from the toothpaste in the mornings and evenings and from your chewing gum throughout the day;

and sometimes like blood, because chewing your lips is your nervous habit and you're nervous a lot.

I like that you love everything I hate about myself.

My stomach, my thighs, that I always try to fix everything and the way my brain overthinks when I can't sleep at night.

I love how you never cease to point your love for these things out, just so I feel better and I maybe get to like them too, someday.

I like that you let your guard down for me, because you're beautiful that way, without the walls protecting your golden heart that shines right through your chest when you let it.

I love the way you look like when you sleep, with your hair all tangled up and the sheets bunched around your hips, your face rid of all the tension and your skin painted porcelain and blue by the moonlight falling through the closed curtains.

I love the way you look like only seconds after you woke up in the morning, sleepy smile and hazy eyes, your fading dream still present behind them.

I love how your hair is messy from sleep and you mostly don't wear clothes which I'm the reason for, how you press your fist against your closed eyes and make disturbed little sounds because you don't want to get up just yet.

I love how you kiss me awake when you wake up first, feather-light touches of your lips all over my sleep-slack features; how your mouth ends up on mine, not caring about our shared morning breaths at all.

I love the little sounds you make right before you fall asleep, or when you sleep, or when you're tired.

I always miss them when you are away, because sometimes they're the only thing that soothes me to sleep.

I love that you always stop to smell the flowers next to the road and that you can name each and every one of them and that you have a special way to describe how they smell; you say some smell like faint memories and some smell like home, and I could listen to you talk about that forever.

I like how hard you're always working, like you need to prove your worth to someone, but you'll never have to do that again, because I know that your heart is worth a thousand mines of gold and if they can't see that, it's their loss. You don't owe them anything.

But most of all, I love that you love me. I love how you love me. I love that you choose me to experience your love, your heart, your you. I love that I am the one who gets to love you and all the little things that make you so very you, my favorite person in the universe and beyond. 

I love you. So much.

More than anything else in this fragile world.

And I hope that you will let me for far longer than you promised me, for far longer than forever.

My soul is intertwined with yours, Lexa. In this lifetime, the ones previous and the ones ahead.

You are my eternity, always.