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When you wake up in the morning, you always have the assurance of Wally’s presence beside you. He had a sleep mask on and pajamas but you knew he wasn’t really asleep. Wally didn’t really understand the concept of sleep and took to repeating “I’m sleeping” over and over again in a hushed whisper that lulled you to sleep at night. Right now, though, he was simply smiling, hands folded on his chest.
You leaned over to pull his sleep mask off his face and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Oh!” His face lit up with delight. “You’re awake!”
You cuddled into his side, resting your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. He smiled and put an arm around you, hugging you closer.
“Yeah…” you replied with a tired groan. “Five more minutes before we get out of bed, though. I’m still sleepy.”
“Take your time, love.” Wally kissed your head as you lay there, peaceful and happy in his arms.
You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this life with Wally but you certainly knew you loved it. You loved that you realized your feelings for each other, that you moved into Home with him, and that you were able to start off every morning like this.
Soon, you’d be out of bed and in the kitchen, helping each other make pancakes. Perhaps some would burn—Wally wasn’t the greatest cook—but you would laugh it off. At some point, you’d push back Wally’s long blue hair that liked to cover half of his face when down. He didn’t enjoy having to go without his pompadour (he used to hate you seeing him like that especially) but he was used to it now. You’d told him enough about how pretty you found him without all his hair products until he believed it. When his whole face was revealed, you gave him a loving, sweet kiss that he'd lean into with a smile.
After, you’d find yourselves underneath the big apple tree in your yard, humming songs and telling stories. Wally’s hair was done by now, and he had a sketchbook in his lap as he doodled many things, including you. You, meanwhile, were doing your best to make a flower crown. Julie taught you how to the other day. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be a quick learner.
“It’s not coming out right,” you whined, disappointment high in your voice.
Wally glanced up from his drawing to look at you. “Here. Let me see.”
You handed him your sad attempt at a flower crown with a frown. Wally didn’t hesitate to put it on his head and he gave you a small smile.
“How do I look?” he asked.
You suppressed a laugh at seeing the ridiculous mess of already-unwinding flowers sat atop him.
“The most.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Just as always.”
Wally smiled warmly at you, a bit lovestruck, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again, this time on his mouth.
Being a puppet, Wally didn’t exactly have lips to kiss, just felt. It also meant he didn’t understand the concept of kissing. He knew it was a declaration of love and, by now, he knew it was one of your favorite ways of giving affection. Still, he didn’t actually kiss back so much as press his face against yours as best as possible and make a ‘mwah’ sound when you leaned away. You considered it kissing, though, even if he did it wrong. He was just too adorable.
“You’re the one who's the most, darling,” he cooed.
You felt something ignite in your chest when he called you that. ‘Darling’ being his surname made it all the more flustering.
“But you’re so beautiful,” you insisted. You moved to cradle his face with your hands and he instantly stilled. “Here…” You kissed his forehead. “…here…” You kissed the space between his eyes where a nose would be. “…and here…!” You quickly pressed another kiss to his mouth.
“Mwah!” Wally said enthusiastically when you pulled back.
You giggled and scooted closer beside him. He rested against your side, leaning his head against your arm.
"What're you drawing there?" you hummed after another minute or two.
Wally held up his sketchpad proudly. He was only working with a few crayons and there was nothing but scribbles on the page, yet you were able to recognize your likeness pretty well between the lines.
"You!" he replied with a sappy smile. "It's my favorite thing to draw, after all!"
You immediately threw him into a hug. Wally was much more accustomed to hugs thanks to his fellow neighbors but still went limp in them. It was like embracing a warm ragdoll, and you'd think Wally didn't like it from his lack of reciprocation if it weren't for the happy hum he made when his face was pressed against your shoulder.
"Wally, you're so talented," you told him as you leaned away. "I'm so lucky."
Wally beamed back at you before continuing to color, content. You let him draw, relaxing in the relative silence between you, mind still whirring. As peaceful as the moment was, you couldn't help feeling dismayed.
Wally did too much for you. He was always making art for you, his greatest muse, and he learned your ways of physical affection for you, even if he still didn't understand it all too well. There had to be something you could do for him in return before you felt like a totally inadequate partner to him. You racked your brain as you sat there, quiet, listening only to the sound of Wally's crayons moving against paper. That gave you an idea and you bit back a cheery smile as you made sure to store it away in your thoughts for later.
A few days later, you found yourself in the living room of Home, putting the finishing touches on your masterpiece. Well, okay, 'masterpiece' was a bit of an overstatement. In front of you, sitting atop a pile of old newspapers was a lump of clay very generously deemed a ceramic sculpture of an apple. There were too many bumps in the wrong places and the stem was leaning too far in one direction, making it askew, but it was still an apple!
At least, this is what you told yourself as you leaned back to examine your work. You put a finger to your mouth thoughtfully.
"I don't know..." you talked out loud to yourself. Then, remembering who you were with, asked, "What do you think, Home?"
Home made a sound that sounded like a door squeaking. You were pretty sure that was a good thing.
But, before you could mull over it any longer, you heard the front door open. You shot up from your spot on the couch, taking the ceramic in your hands and hiding it behind your back. A moment later, Wally walked in, a slight smile on his face that grew bigger upon seeing you.
"Hi, love!" you greeted, trying to seem as not suspicious as possible. "How was hanging out with Julie and Frank?"
"Fun." Wally nodded. "We chased a lot of butterflies. Frank got mad when I asked if I could keep them."
"Aw, I'm sorry."
"It's alright." Wally shrugged. "Friends shouldn't be caged in anyway. They should be flying free."
You smiled at the sentiment and leaned in to kiss his cheek, only to stop when he spoke again.
"What do you have behind you?" he asked, genuinely curious.
You leaned back suddenly with a nervous smile. "Huh? Oh, nothing!"
"Can I see it?"
You rolled the ceramic in your hand, feeling every lump and crevice with a frown. Yet, you looked into Wally's big, black eyes, soft and caring as they stared back at you intently, and couldn't help but give in.
"Okay. Fine..." you sighed as you pulled the apple out from behind you. "It's, um, a thing I made for you."
You held it out to him so he could see it, bracing yourself for his reaction.
Wally's eyes widened and his mouth parted with a small gasp. "An apple?"
"Yeah! It's made out of clay," you explained. You watched as he studied it before carefully taking it into his own hands. "You know, I figured since you like staring at your apples but they eventually all go bad... I'd make you one that never goes bad!"
Wally was quiet for a moment and his whole face brightened. "It's perfect!"
He walked over to the mantel and placed the ceramic there gently as you continued.
"Really?" Your smile twitched. "I know art is kind of your thing, I'm not as good at it but I just thought I'd do something for you since you do so much for me and-"
Wally smiled before pressing his mouth against the side of your face, effectively cutting off your rambling. You relaxed when he made a 'mwah!' sound as he leaned away.
"I love it," he reassured you, voice soft.
"Oh." You let out a sigh of relief. "Good."
"But why would you think you have to make something for me, silly?" Wally tilted his head.
You looked down, suddenly feeling sheepish. Wally gingerly took one of your hands with his, giving you an encouraging nod. In return, you gave him a warm smile.
"I don't want you to think I'm inadequate," you replied with a shrug. "Because you're so talented and nice to me and all these other things and you deserve the best!"
Wally chuckled. You couldn't help but smile more at the sound of it, slow and monotone. You loved his laugh.
"You are the best," he told you, rubbing your hand with his thumb. "You're the most, darling. Your love is more than enough."
You felt a bundle of emotions begin to take over you, all so overwhelmingly happy you could hardly even fathom it. Gratitude, comfort, and pure love rushed through you as you continued to stare adoringly into those beautiful eyes. You wanted to jump for joy, hold Wally close to you and never, ever let go, and see to it that you made every day of the rest of his life perfect and full of love. Maybe then he would be able to feel a fraction of the amount of adoration you had for him and understand just how much he meant to you.
Instead, you frowned playfully. "See what I mean?! You're too kind! It's not fair!"
Wally just laughed again.