#bohamian rhapsody fluff

[borhap-au]

Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Jealousy. Joe. Angst.

well, the story starts off as usual 

you were with Joe for quite a long time

everything has been going really well

you became that chill couple who just felt comfortable around each other, joked around a lot, generally were just friends who were accidentally in love

since it’s been going on for some time, even your friends suspected that there soon will be an engagement

but perhaps it was not necessarily what was supposed to happen

you were chilling in your flat one evening, Joe was out

you sipped an old champagne watching some tv show 

when you got a text from a friend of yours saying she saw Joe

you were like “yeah? where is that dinosaur hanging out now?”

but she was not in an equally playful mood

“y/n, I don’t know how to tell you this...”

“don’t scare me like that” you answered

“I am just about to scare you...” a short break

then a phone call

and then the news

“I saw him with another woman. in a car. they were heading somewhere. I called him to see if he would tell the truth, because if he would, he couldn’t be doing anything wrong, or something you didn’t know about, or at least that’s what I thought. but he lied. said he was at home, heading to bed. when I saw him with that woman. I’m sure it was him”

you didn’t know what to do

it was that kind of a pain you have never known before

you weren’t much of a jealous person, Joe wasn’t either, you always trusted each other

turns out you never had a reason to trust him

you were walking around your flat, mad and depressed

you couldn’t believe that happened to you, that he really could do that to you

you recalled all those beautiful moments you two shared

how you first met him in a confectionery

you were eating a donut and you had a powder all over your face

he joked about it

soon after you met again

and again

he made you feel like no one else before

he had such an amazing sense of humor

he made you laugh even on the saddest moments

you loved his little kisses, his hugs, feeling his heartbeat

falling asleep with him and waking up together

and you hated him for the fact you could not hate him at all, even after what you found out

the worst part was probably that you mentioned starting a family a few times, and he was always in for it

you even thought he’s excited

oh, how wrong could you be

finally, he came back home

with a big smile, immediately went to hug you

but you pushed him away and he looked at you concerned

y/n? what is it? did something bad happen?

“you really have guts to still pretend, Mazzello” you muttered, pissed

pretend? what do you mean?

“no need to pretend now. you’ve been exposed”

I’m sorry, honey. I still don’t understand

“oh, don’t you? maybe ask that pretty female friend of yours, maybe she knows the answer”

what friend? what do you mean? are you jealous of Lucy again?

“No, I’m not jealous of her! I’m only jealous about the one you’re currently fucking!”

And that is yourself. And no one else.

you were surprised by the fact he started to get angry. you didn’t really know what to expect of him, what would be his reaction, but you certainly didn’t think he’ll be mad at you

“well, there is one more”

oh, yeah? who is it then? come on, tell me. since you appear to know better who I fuck with!

“well, you met with her today, and you already forgot her?”

what do you even- oh, that dear friend of ours, that was her, wasn’t it?

“mad that she saw right through you?”

mad that she’s interfering in our matters. well, if there are still matters that are o u r s

“didn’t think you’re going to get exposed, did you?”

expos- and you still about that? I told you, I don’t fuck anyone beside you. you are enough. you’re my everything

“so why would you lie about her?

because it was supposed to be a fucking surprise

“an affair? Happy anniversary, hone-”

stop with that! stop it! I’m not having an affair, I never would! how could you believe, after what my ex has put me through, that I would ever, EVER done something like this to someone else? to someone I l o v e?!

“then who is she?”

a wedding organizer.

“a what-” you didn’t know what to say or how to react 

“you were planning our wedding?”

no. I was planning our engagement. I wanted to do it on a beach, with all those fireworks and shit. I wanted it to be special, as I was planning to only get married once, but...

“is that true?”

yes, of course it is. here 

he searched in his pocket and gave you a business card with the woman’s name on it

she plans all different kind of stuff, engagements too. call her. ask her, if you don’t want to believe me.

you stopped for a minute

deep inside in your heart you knew he was telling the truth

just one look at him, how hurt he was after he heard the accusations, explained you everything

I can’t believe you thought I’m cheating on you

after everything we’ve been through

I thought I deserved more trust

“of course you do, Joey. you do. I’m sorry, I really am. you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. I didn’t know the truth. but I do know it now”

he didn’t say anything

so you decided to use his own tool aka make a joke to unload the tension 

“I wouldn’t ever think it’s gonna be me who apologizes and you who are mad. the world can be really surprising, eh?” 

but he didn’t find it equally funny

you just sighed quietly 

“I’m sorry, Joe, I really am. I know it’s my fault-”

just tell me

w h y ?

“because of my insecure ass that won’t let me believe I deserved any of this. that’s why”

“Joe, I really don’t expect you to understand this, but I have extremely low self-esteem. and because of that, it’s really hard for me to accept the idea that I could be happy, without worries. because I simply didn’t deserve this. yet you do make me happy. you make me the happiest woman on earth when I’m with you. with you, I- I feel genuinely loved, appreciated and overall good. but wherever I am alone with my mind, it keeps telling me “you don’t deserve to be in this happy place, and you’re going to lose it.” that’s why I believed her. not because I don’t trust you, I do trust you with my life, but because I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough to be your girl”

he sighed and came to hug you and brought you close to him

y/n

he muttered in your hair, petting your back

you deserve everything. you deserve the entire world. because you are more than good enough. I don’t know what you see, but I see an amazing girl here, in front of me. to me, you are perfect

You think why I was planning our engagement? I want to spend my life with you, honey. And I know your mind tries to tell you something different, betray you... But if you let me, I will try to help you change the voices in your head. After all, we have the entire lifetime for it 

“Of course if you still want to. I wouldn't be surprised if you hated me now”

I love you, darling. I love YOU. you and only you. I love when you I see you in bed next to me, whether we're waking up or going to sleep. I love when I can make you laugh so hard you don't even laugh anymore, just clap your thigh like a silent seal. I love when we jokingly fight about which movie we're going to see in the cinema this time. I love that you learnt to love Star Wars because of me. and most importantly I love you, because contrary to most of my exes, you love me for who I am, and don't try to change me

“Of course I love you for who you are. especially since you are perfect”

You really thought I would trouble myself so much, keeping a secret, having to lie, not wanting anyone to spoil the surprise for you, for someone I didn’t care for? I’m planning on getting married only once, so I want to do it properly. and I want it to be perfect, for you, so you can have your princess-like experience that you always dreamt of

“I’m really sorry for what happened. but it hurt so much to think I could lose the happiness of my life. I just couldn’t bare the thought of not being with you. that’s why I got so mad. because I was pissed at myself for not being able to keep the best thing that ever happened to me in my life”

so now you know how I felt when I came here after a day of planning our engagement, and the rest of our life together, was just happy to see you, and you pushed me away

“I promise I’ll do better. I’ll try for you. I’ll do everything, anything. Just tell me what I should do”

just be here, with me. and trust me. then everything will be perfect for me

he smiles a bit and looked at your face, immediately getting concerned 

Oh, no, honey. Please don't cry 

“Those are happy tears, Joey. I'm just so lucky to have met you” 

He smiled and hugged you even tighter 

Is it just me, or is it already perfect right now? 

“Of course it is. After all, you're here”

and you’re here with me

[borhap-au]

Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Joe Mazzello x black!reader. First date(s).

It wasn’t a first blind date you were going on – your friend had a tendency to set them up for you every once in a while. You were on a few of them, once or twice even had genuine fun. Those were mostly her friends from work, and she didn’t have an interesting job, or interesting people in the office. You needed something else than an intelligent geek. Even though they were handsome men. And one thing needs to be added – they were all Afro-American. Guys with similar skin tone were your comfort zone. By dating them you avoided people’s judgement and could live in peace. It’s not like those white boys were not your type, some of them were even more attractive than you wanted to admit, but you never took any steps to date any of them. It was just the safe option.

So the day finally came. Surprisingly, you knew absolutely nothing about the guy you were about to meet. Your friend usually gave you at least a few-sentence description of who you’re going to meet, like what college did they go to and how they are. But this time, nothing. As if she didn’t want to let you know him before you see him for yourself. You only weren’t so sure if it was because he was so dreamy you wouldn’t believe it, or just the contrary.

While you were dolling yourself up you thought how weird it is that you’re trying to look your best for someone you don’t know and frankly, you may not even like. You packed your purse – phone, wallet, tissues, lipstick and a pepper spray. You could never be too careful with those young men.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you asked for Joseph – this is about as much as you knew about him. The waiter told you that he will get to you right away, and you took the time to look around. You tried to spot an Afro-American man sitting alone by the table, but there was not a single one that would fit the usual description of the men your friend set you up with. They were either too old, too fat, or just generally not appealing. You were mad, because you knew that somewhere among those men there is the one your friend told you to meet, because apparently he was perfect for you. The waiter came and told you to go with him to the other side of the room. You walked behind him, and saw a very handsome young man, an Afro-American with a nice smile. Yet before you came any closer, a woman sat by his table. What was the meaning of this?

“Mr. Mazzello? This lady asked for you” you turned your head to look at the person the waiter was talking to. Oh- wow. The most perfect young man stood up and smiled to you. Took your hand and kissed it softly.

“I’m Joe” he smiled, and you immediately smiled back.

“Y/N” you answered and he moved your chair. Then came back to his sit. What a gentleman, you thought and smiled internally.

“Our mutual friend told me so much about you” he started.

“Oh, really? She told me nothing about you. Nothing but your name” you explained. He looked at you smiling a bit apologetically.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you then.” Oh, no, no. On the contrary. You were hardly ever attracted to someone this much.

“If you’re talking about the looks, then no, you didn’t. But I would much rather get to know your personality before saying anything else” you smiled and he nodded, smiling as well.

“I’d like to get to know you too. Tell me something about yourself. What are your interests?” he finally realized you should order something and took the menu.

“Or maybe you can tell me something about yourself. After all, you heard enough about me from our friend” you joked and he chuckled.

“I heard a lot, never said it was enough” charmer. “I like baseball. Cinema. Dancing. My mom has a dance studio, she teaches young girls” you looked at him with interest.

“Maybe she could teach me. Never enough practice” you suggested.

“I can teach you” he said, smiling.

“Oh, no. You’re too expensive for me” you joked and chuckled.

“For special customers I may do it for free” when the waiter came, you both already knew what you wanted. He asked for a bottle of wine, one of the most expensive ones.

“So what you’re saying is, I’m special? Without even getting to know me?”

“Some people have that aura about them. You’re one of those people. I may even say, yours glows brighter than anyone’s I’ve ever seen. There is just that something about you.”

“You sure know how to pay compliments, Mr. …?” you smiled apologetically.

“Mazzello. Or Mazzello, if some prefer” he pronounced his name the second time with a proper Italian accent.

“You’re Italian?” you asked surprised. The ginger hair suggested Ireland, but you didn’t want to be someone who judges people by their looks and stereotypes.

“I have double citizenship, yes. My family comes from there and I’ve been there a few times. But I don’t speak Italian, not as much as I’d wish to. Where’s your family from?” he asked, taking a sip of wine the waiter has just brought for you.

“Africa, obviously” you smiled and he closed his eyes as if stopping himself from doing a facepalm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be rude. It was so ignorant of me” he sighed and you smiled to him and put your hand on his to comfort him.

“I’m just joking. My parents are from Maine. I came here because I needed the sun” you smiled at each other. You took your hand away and tried the wine. “Oh, it’s good.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“And what do you think?” you asked.

“It’s really good.” So was the food. You chatted, and laughed, then laughed some more. You felt so incredibly comfortable in his company. He was so funny and charming... And goofy at times. But overall he was making the impression of a guy who’s both, smart and fun. You never had a date you enjoyed this much.

He walked you home. Since he was better prepared for the weather, you got his jacket when you were cold. At your doorstep, he didn’t really want to say goodbye yet and it was visible. He finally kissed your cheek – that was the moment you got the courage to kiss his lips. You kiss was long and passionate, as you put your hands on his cheeks, while his hands were around you, bringing you close to him. When you finally managed to move away from each other just enough to see each other, you both smiled.

“I’d invite you inside… But I don’t sleep with people on first dates” you smiled slightly, and he pet your cheek.

“I don’t do that either. Can I come in nevertheless?” he surprised you, but you nodded.

“Of course” and opened the door for the both of you. Somehow you trusted him. And he never gave you a single reason not to. He was respectful the entire night and only turned out to be an even bigger gentleman. You watched a comedy, ate snacks, chuckled, not really paying attention to what was happening on the screen.

You even fell asleep with your head on his lap, but woke up after a short while. When you were asleep, he softly pet your head, trying to be quiet. When you woke up, you took a shower, then there was his turn. You gave him some big old t-shirt, and he slept in his boxers.

“I’d go to sleep on the couch” he suggested. You chuckled quietly.

“I think we’re adult enough to share a bed” and you did. You snuggled to him, and he put his arm around you, petting your back until you fell asleep. Actually, he was the first one to do so, and you smiled looking at his peaceful face. In the morning he woke up first. He started making a breakfast when you got to the kitchen, with messy hair and everything.

“What a nice view” he smiled widely greeting you and came to hug you. “How did you sleep?” he asked before you can deny being a nice view in the morning.

“Better than ever. And you?”

“Same. You have a very nice bed.”

“And you have good cooking skills. It smells delicious” you smiled sitting near him.

“Wait with your judgement ‘till you eat” he chuckled, but it was really good. After the breakfast, you both got ready and then you spent the entire day together. You had a walk in the park, went to movies, then to pizzeria, after all, he’s Italian. On a third date you took him to the California African American Museum. He listened with interest to every story you told him and tried to remember as much as he could. In the evening you held a quiz for him of the knowledge he gained that day.

After the fourth date, he asked you if you slept with guys you knew for over a week. You denied. After that, he didn’t asked again. He waited patiently. About a month later you were chilling on his couch and watching some incredibly boring movie, so naturally you found yourself something better to do. You had a steamy make out session, when your hand slowly went down his chest to his zipper. It didn’t take your hand long to land in his underwear.

You never had anyone eating you out so passionately before. He held your hand, petting it with his thumb, and his other hand was squeezed around your thigh, bringing you close to him. His tongue was doing unbelievable things around your clit and your labia, making the guy who invented Kamasutra looking incompetent. You held his hand and the pillow tightly, as you came three times, before he has even entered you.

He had a nice cock, and you were too embarrassed to mention you had never actually see a white cock before. But he was a good lover, and proved you wrong about anything you might’ve thought about white boys and their abilities.  

At your birthday, he was literally the only white person there. It didn’t stop him from feeling relaxed and having a good time. He talked to everyone, and he was the perfect example of how the world should be – we should look at each other as people, not as representatives of different races, genders, sexualities. And most importantly, we should not judge people by those features. Joey knew that, and you were so incredibly proud when your sister called him “the coolest white boy” she knew. Most of your friends liked him too. He didn’t feel different at the party, because he didn’t look at skin complexion. He looked at the attitude, and you’ve always surrounded yourself with laid-back people with sense of humor. Just like your boyfriend was.

Also, out of all the presents you got, the one from him was the best. He got you a neckless with a little silver book, and if you opened it, it read “and they lived happy ever after.” The ring he proposed to you with a few years later had the same words written inside of it.

You friend was your bridesmaid at the wedding. After all, if it wasn’t for her idea for a little blind date with a boy you knew nothing about, you wouldn’t be marrying the love of your life. You owed her that. You both did. And your firstborn daughter had a similar neckless with a book to the one you had, but it read “chapter two.”

[borhap-au]

Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Joe’s girl feels down and needs him to be there for her.

 He knew something was wrong. You could see it from just looking at him. He wasn’t like he always was. He was not playful, he didn’t crack jokes. He didn’t smile. He knew you felt bad. And – what broke your heart to a thousand pieces – he thought it was his fault.

“Please, please, please, just tell me” he looked you deep in the eyes, holding your hands in his. He was leaning towards you, sitting on the chair opposite you. Your mind was pure chaos. You knew well what was bothering you, despite telling him you were just in bad mood, without a reason. Yet it was so hard to say out loud. It wasn’t a one-time thing, it was happening for quite a long time… And you never truly admitted to anyone what was going on in your head. But it was the right time, the only right time if there ever was one. Right here and there – just to reassure the man you loved more than anything else in the world that it was not his fault.

“Where do I start… Well, fuck. Do you really feel like listening to all this? Because it is a long story, and as much as it’s important to me, I know nobody else cares, so…” you started. You honestly doubted he was ready for what’s about to come. He probably thought it was just about a stupid fight with your friend, or that you didn’t fit in your favourite jeans. He didn’t know how deeply it was rooted in your brain.

“Yes. I am ready and willing to listen to you no matter how long you want to speak. Please, tell me everything. I’m begging you” you smiled sadly looking at him. Despite feeling down you knew one thing – Joe was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, he was so loving, caring, so sweet. And you wanted to give him much more than you believed you were.

“I hate myself” he wanted to interrupt, but you didn’t allow him. “Just let me get all of this out of my chest. Then you can say whatever you want about it.” He nodded slowly letting you proceed.

“It’s not a new thing, I did since I was like… 12? You know, I was one of the cool kids when I was very young. I was believed to be pretty, smart, interesting. Always told by everyone I will go far, I will go wherever I want actually. Got the best grades, boys were interested in me, I had expensive clothes, beautiful hair… You know, the things that are important when you’re 12. And then I entered my teenage years and the reality hit me. Hard. I got much fatter than I used to be, I got acne, I heard for the first time that I’m ugly. We got new subjects and there were kids I could never catch up with, because I prefer languages, history. I was never good at physics or PE. I realised I’m more of an introvert type. I got less and less popular. I had a really toxic best friend that bent my worldview, but also my self-esteem. I was always in her shadow and at her every wish. I’m pretty sure my parents just got me because well, they… happened to have me. Neither of them is really meant to be a parent, they don’t know what they’re doing, really. And when I got into my rebel phase, they never understood me. They still don’t. Nobody in my family really does. They’re all like: “socialize more” or “lose some weight” or “all your problems start with you.” Well of course they start with me, Karen, I am the problem! I’m never good enough. All the people around me make me feel bad about who I am. I’m an introvert, and logically, there is nothing bad about it. It’s just the type of personality I have. But no. “You should go out! Meet people! You’re like a freak all by yourself in your room. You don’t socialize because you have no friends, is that the case?” Or if I’m shy and I don’t feel ready to be an adult yet, I’m scared to go on a job interview, I don’t like strangers, I have a fear of being rejected. And it is not my fault. I’m just that kind of a person. I do make money, just differently, I teach a few kids I know. But no, all the other people my age make fucking millions. “Oh, your cousin has bought a house. Your friend is balancing three job and college. Oh, my friend’s son is travelling all around the world.” Oh, well, good for them for fuck’s sake. I’m not like them. I’m not perfect. Just tell me I’m a fucking disappointment already. Just disown me. Because all of those little comments just make me feel like shit. And yes, it took me years to find a boyfriend so I obviously heard about it too. “Oh, you’re just jealous it’s not you.” No, I’m not jealous. And even if I was, I still wouldn’t like listening about other people’s love and sex life. I’m just not interested in those things. Honestly, I try to be a good friend, but when you’re the only single person that constantly need to give advices to those in relationships… It gets tiring. And of course nobody has ever been proud of me, not since childhood. I try, and try, and work my ass off and when I for example score 90% from a very difficult exam, all I hear is “why not 100%?” I’m not smart enough. I stress about everything. And when I stress, I eat. So I can’t just get slimmer. I can’t get motivation to work out, because I can’t get a motivation to live. I don’t feel like getting out of bed. I’m not smart, pretty, skinny… Not even interesting or charming. I’m annoying. I can see in people’s eyes they had enough of me few minutes into our conversation. I always feel worse, like I’m not good enough for anything, like literally everyone’s better. At everything. I don’t have my own thing. And even if I find something, soon people turn to the person that is better than me. I’m not anyone’s favourite person-"

“Oh no, I need to interrupt you here. You are MY favourite person. You are my favourite person on the whole planet. And I’m really sorry you don’t see how beautiful you are. I know the girls in the magazines look differently. And good! Because they are not real. They’re photoshopped. And we are made to believe this is what we want – this is what girls should look like, and in those kind of women we are supposed to fall in love with. But they don’t exist. To achieve such a small flat stomach you would have to get rid of all your organs. It doesn’t work like this. You are slim. You are beautiful. Why do we even care about the standards of beauty other people tell us we should have? You are my standard of beauty. I’ve never seen more beautiful eyes or smile in my life. I look at you and I just immediately smile to myself, thinking how lucky I am and how happy you make me feel. When you’re laughing, goofing around, when you do absolutely anything. They make money on dieting, sport related things, “healthy” food, proteins, whatever. They want us to hate ourselves. To always try to achieve the impossible. Because then we buy more. Because we are sad, depressed. Easily manipulated by the media. And I don’t want you to let them win. Because you are so fucking beautiful, girl, I had a crush on you since the first day we’ve met. I adore your body. I cannot take my eyes off you when you’re walking past me. You are the reason I’m happy and I want to be the same for you. And I am proud of you. I’m incredibly proud of every single achievement you attain. I always tell people what a good person you are, how loving and caring you are. I notice everything. And if you got 90% from a test I know damn well there is not a single person that got 100%. Because nobody is better than you are. And nobody knows more about the things you’re passionate about. And to me there’s nobody that can overshadow you. You are the one and only, the only one I see when you walk into a room. You’re your own light. And you have enough to give me a bit of that too. Because this is what kind of person you are. You give instead of taking from people. You are very special. And anybody who doesn’t see how blessed they are to have you in their life can go fuck themselves. I see it and I know that I am. You mean so much to me. And I see that you’re trying and honestly in the circumstances given, you really do well. You don’t have to compare yourself to others. They all had a different start. They came from a different place, they had different people around them. Especially since you only had people discouraging you. You achieved it on your own. You owe it all to yourself. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with being an introvert, when will people acknowledge that? It’s not a mental disease like they want it to appear. “15 ways for introverts to appear as extroverts!” What about manuals for extroverts to be more quiet and understanding sometimes? And you never disappointed me. Since we’re together I’ve been so much happier and I really wish I could do the same for you. I don’t know where I’m making the mistake-“ you stopped him with a kiss.

You were listening to all that he was saying not believing this man is yours. He was like a blessing, he understood everything you had in your mind and was able to help you understand very important things too. And he loved you. Loved you more than you allowed yourself to believe. He was genuinely interested in you and your problems. He wanted to help, however he could. He even blamed himself for not doing more. Yet he did so much more than anyone else in your life before. In that brief moment, you felt happier. You knew it wasn’t the end of fighting for your happiness, it was just the beginning. But you finally felt like you wanted to fight. He made you want to take appropriate steps to change the voice in your head. Because for once you felt like someone actually wants you to be better, but in a sense that they cheer for you, not that they’re disappointed in who you are. And you knew it’s a long fight and there will be many defeats. You knew the excitement you felt now won’t last forever. But the moment you felt his lips on yours, his hands on your back, bringing you close, you knew you had a reason to fight for your happiness for. He was your reason.

“Believe me or not, I actually feel better now… It was good to finally talk to someone about it. But please don’t tell me that you feel bad, because it’s your fault… It isn’t. It started happening long before I met you. I don’t expect you to come into ruins and build a castle from them. I just love you so much for the fact you enjoy what you’re seeing for the reasons others hate it.” He smiled a bit petting your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed your forehead.

“I love you very much. And if they don’t see how amazing you are, it’s their loss, not yours. You have the people that truly care around you. You have me. And you will have me as long as you need me. I’m here, always. Call me at 3 AM, no problem. Text me and I’m here. Stay over at my house whenever you please, fall asleep in my arms if that calms you. Let me know if you need my attention more than usually. Hit me up when you need someone to encourage you. I will do all of it for you, and more, but please, just let me know you need those things. I’m not a mind reader, although I wish I was. I cannot help you if you won’t tell me something’s wrong.” He looked at you concerned. After all, he still wasn’t sure if he did enough. He was truly worried. He really cared.

“Only if you promise me that you will do the same. Maybe you think I don’t know it, but I do. You feel down sometimes too. And I don’t want to feel like I’m nosey and I try to dig out something you don’t want to tell me about. But I do care so much about you, and I want you to tell me, always. If I see that you don’t, I won’t tell you either. Either we’re both in this relationship, caring for each other and helping each other, or… There is no deal. I don’t want you to suffer quietly and then come here to help me. Men can feel bad too. You should allow yourself for it, rather than keeping it in and pretending all is fine. Men can be emotional, men can cry. And you can cry on my shoulder whenever you want. I’ll do anything I can to help you overcome your problems.” He sat on the couch next to you and you leaned on him, snuggling. He pet your back.

“I promise you. Actually, there’s something- I didn’t tell you this before, but I really like when you ask me all those little questions. Like how am I, is everything alright, did I took everything, how was my day, am I feeling well physically and mentally, did I dress appropriately, didn’t forget to eat… It may seem stupid, but I really love those things. They make me realise how much you care for me, to take time to think about those things. And I like resting my head on your stomach hugging you in bed. It makes me feel close to you, I love hearing your heartbeat. Those little things are important to me.” He smiled slightly when you nodded making sure to remember all of it.

“I like when you text me first thing in the morning. And when you come here out of the blue. I like when you’re showing me affection, hug me, hold my hand, caress my body. I like when you speak about your emotions. I like when you say”

“I love you” you both said at the same time and you smiled.

“Exactly. And I love that you listen.” You added.

“Because you listen too. I have boys who listen to me when I’m excited about sports; mom, if I want to talk about job opportunities or my dreams… I can always find someone who listens if I talk about good things. Nobody else listens when I feel down. Nobody else but you. You understand the importance of my mental health. I hope one day you’ll understand how important your health is. How important you are. ‘Cause to me, you mean everything.” He kissed your head.

“If one day I feel like I’m good enough, it will be thanks to you.”

“You are so much better than just that. You could fucking own the world if you wanted to. You can do, achieve, whatever you really want. You are a queen to me. I love you to the moon and back. And I’m so fucking proud to call you my girl. You just make other people happy. You make me happy. You know how much it’s worth? In the world where everything brings you down? It’s priceless. You are priceless. And I don’t know what more to tell you other than this girl – the one I have in my arms right now – is the reason I go out of bed, if feel like I’m flying instead of walking and whenever I know you got interested in something new, I can’t wait to hear you talking about it, gesticulating and being all excited. I love it. I love those moments with you. I’m always happy when I know we will meet on that day. It makes me feel alive.”

You listened to him carefully. He was better than you could imagine him. You knew he really would come at 3 PM to comfort you if you asked him to. And it was so important to have someone like that in your life.

“I don’t know what to say either. I just love you so much.”

“I love you too. From the moment you said you want to be with me, the life has been surreal. I feel like it’s all just a perfect dream. I’m in coma and I will wake up and you will be gone, my angel.”

“I’m here, Joey. I’m as real as it gets. Why are you here, though, I cannot understand.”

“Because you make me happy. I don’t feel obliged to be with you or any other bullshit the voices have been telling you. Actually, I would be happy if you became my wife one day. Because if I spent my life making sure you feel great and loved, then I would consider my life to be a fulfilling one. I’m not here because I have to, or something like that. I need you. My beautiful, intelligent, attractive, charming girl. My best friend. Just please, stay with me. Just as long as I make you happier than others would. If you find someone better, I will step aside. Because I genuinely only care about your well-being. I love you so much it hurts when I’m not around you.”

“Do you mean all this?” it’s like he’s been reading your mind. He told you exactly what you needed to hear.

“Every single word. Please, just try anything to be happy and I promise to be there, on the way with you, cheering for you and telling you how proud I am for every little step. And I mean all of this too.”

“Who would I be without you?” You asked rhetorically. You knew the answer was “nothing”, but you didn’t want to say it, since it would hurt him to hear you saying it about someone he loved so much.

“An ambitious girl with a bright future in front of her. Honey, you would be exactly who you are right now. I don’t make you whole, you are whole. I’m just an addition. You don’t necessarily need me, but you want me, and I’m happy and proud of it. And I will stay as long as you want me to. Helping you achieve what you would achieve on your own anyway and hopefully much more. I will not leave you. I’m here, for you. Always.”