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Aventurine never was fond of being alone, never since he met you.
Ever since you have graced his life with your warmth he can’t go back, he hated the idea of a past, present, and future without your warmth beside him. This selfish want of his transpires the most underneath the sheets, it goes far beyond his sexual need nor his primal lust.
No, this need of his is far more pure.
Sincere even, that’s saying a lot since he was never known to be sincere.
Yet he is, for you.
Only you.
He found it easier to sleep against your chest, listening to your calm heartbeat lulls him to slumber far more successfully than any other methods he used in the past. He often described your whole body as his teddy bear, the sentiment suits you perfectly since he had always wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close as his head rested upon your chest.
So warm, so soft, so comforting.
It fills his barren heart with emotions he has always yearned for, love and adoration.
A sense of being wanted, of being loved.
He has survived by himself for years by his cunning wit and gambling his life away, yet he had stumbled upon uncharted territories with you. The feeling of comfort and security you had given him has him utterly petrified.
The thought of baring his true naked self to you terrifies him, he was never a good person, he was far from it.
You know that. You know that very well and yet here you are with fingers brushing through his blond hair, the comfort that you gave also comes with a price.
And for the first time, he’s scared to lose it, to lose you.
Unbeknownst to him, a tear has escaped from his eye. He hates it. He hates how scared he is of losing you, “Rine, are you alright ?” your soft comforting voice lingered in his ear.
“Ah I’m fine !, what makes you ask that ?,” he smiled as he tilted his head upwards, your expression paints a clear picture of worry. He does not want that.
“You’re crying,” the softness of your voice, the kindness it holds. It could render him into a crying mess, he hates it.
He hates being vulnerable, yet it’s you.
Would you leave him for this?
“Am I now ?,” he chuckled, a smirk plastered on his face. An attempt to try to mask his feelings away has never worked on you.
Yet he tries anyway.
“You are,” your hand cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently wiped away tears drops falling from his face.
He smiled, genuinely smiled as you wiped away the tears that formed from his heart. His soul.
“Perhaps I am,” he bitterly replied.
“I’m here, always here and I hope you know that,” you replied calmly, his hands reaching forward to caress your cheek, holding it gently like a precious stone.
“I’m terrified,” he muttered, his thumb resting upon your lower lip as he spoke.
“Of what ?,” you asked, you could feel his thumb tracing your lips as you spoke.
“Losing you,” he replied shortly, his lips forming a gentle smile as he watched you chuckle upon hearing his answer.
“A gambler, terrified to lose. That’s new,” you smiled, your fingers brushed his hair back to see his face, tired yet comforted.
“I don’t gamble on our relationship, feel free to use me or stab me in the back if that’s what you want,” he leaned forward, closing the gap between your face and his.
“But for you, I’m not afraid to be on the losing side,” he muttered against your lips, before pressing his own against yours to seal the deal.