#got: friends to lovers

[sunclown]

Best thing of part 4 💎💲

[mikacanica]

"Now, why does that himbo keep staring at me?"

Im a sucker for first meetings you guys!!!! 😫😫😫

[rosenr0tten]

Meljay isn’t boring. Most people are just unwilling to discuss or engage with them in a meaningful way because of their own biases + inability to think of ship dynamics beyond their cookie cutter tropes

[scribz-ag24]

treasure town played telephone with the story of how dusknoir joined grovyle's side and it's getting out of hand

[ruporas]

i got an opportunity to make a plush recently so naturally i made wolfwood! this IC is to gauge interest for full production and how many wolfwoods i'll be expecting in the future world [ID in alt].

please fill out this form if you'd be interested in a mini wolfwood!

*this is not a preorder form, this is only an interest check

[hairmetal666]

Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.

Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.

He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.

"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.

He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?

Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.

He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.

Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.

Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.

Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.

Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.

"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."

Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."

Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"

Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.

"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."

"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."

"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.

"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.

"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."

They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.

"Working on new music?"

Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.

"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"

Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."

"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."

He grimaces. "That's a low bar."

"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.

"Shut-up."

"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."

"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"

"No, not at all. Just curious."

"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"

"Gossip," Eddie frowns.

"Anyone else you got your eye on?"

"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.

"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.

Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"

Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."

"Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."

"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.

"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"

"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"

"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.

"The one that got away?"

"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."

Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"

"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"

"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."

Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.

"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."

"Wait, Steve--"

"See you around."

He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.

Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.

"Eddie, I don't--"

"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."

"What?"

"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."

"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?

"God, since 1986, at least."

Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"

"You're mine too," the words tumble out.

"What?"

"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"

"Pathetic gay yearning and all."

Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.

Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.

Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."

"It's been a decade!"

"Fuck," Eddie cackles.

They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.

"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.

Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"

"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."

"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"

Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."

Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."

[krazieka2]

Here's a big old Fire Emblem Search & Find I did for the FE3H Masquerade Zine! Find the Golden Deer, but see if you can't find the rest of the students as well! For the ultimate challenge, see if you can't name every character! (Disclaimer two characters are NPCs with no names)

[dingledraw]

Crowley was more upset than Aziraphale after the ordeal, so they both needed some comfort 🩷

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 131

Jasker is a dragon, sure. But he prefers his human form. He prefers pretty clothing and lutes over his scales and wings. He hasn't a hoard yet. He thinks. He's never truly cared for gold, though he knows that not all dragons have hoards of gold. That's just the default. What if he did have a hoard, and it just wasn't some boring old gold pieces? At first he thought his hoard must be his many exuberant outfits, but when he got into a scuffle and one outfit was ruined, he was disappointed but that was it. There was no anguish, no mourning, no big depressive meltdown over it's destruction... So probably not a hoard. Just an interest. He then thought it must be his songs. But when he heard a bard in some town playing one of his songs, he didn't erupt into scales and roars. He didn't burn down a city. He didn't even rip out his hair or anything. He wasn't even mad. He thinks you'd be more possessive and jealous over a hoard. He was mostly proud. The bard said it was a song he didn't write, he said it was by Jaskier, and he sang it quite well. But even if he didn't do any of those things, Jaskier would be mad, sure, maybe even mad, but never MAD. He thought of lovers being his hoard, but the thought went away very quickly. None of his lovers stay, and though it stings sometimes, he thinks he'd be flinging himself off a cliff if a treasure of his hoard literally got up and walked away from him. And then one day he meets a Witcher. The witcher looks at him with these piercing golden eyes, and Jaskier feels an audible shift in his soul, his being. He found it. His treasure. Maybe witchers are his hoard, and Geralt is just his first one. Maybe his hoard is just friends he meets. He doesn't know, all he knows is that he can't stop himself from staring at the gold of Geralt's eyes. Perhaps Jaskier does care for gold.

[ingridgh0st]

At least they look at each other in the High School AU official merch

[14dayswithyou]

Hi, Howdy! Hey! I really love your novel!! I got a little confused by the 4 day, may maybe you help me please? who is it? why we got the bad end staying the night in Ren’s apartment and he disappear of the home screen? I can’t understand “unset memory” game, sorry if I wrote smth wrong or smth sounds rude, I swear that I didn’t mean it if happened, I’m really a fan of the novel, I’ve been playing the game since day 1 or 2 I guess, probably day 1, english isn’t my first language, but I tried lol

⌞♥⌝ I hope you don't mind me answering these as bullet points!! ^^

"It" will be revealed later in the game! So I won't reveal too much right now.

You can only get the Dead End in Day 4 by staying at Ren's apartment — the rest of your choices before that don't matter. I'd also pay closer attention to the black smoke and Ren's reaction towards it!

Ren disappears from the home screen because he promised to help the player out (and stop them from getting the Dead End again). Try replaying the game again from the beginning for a surprise!

"Unsent Memories" was another visual novel (initially being written by @10chimes / @unsentmemory, though the project has since been dropped and handed back to me /pos) and is set in the same universe as 14 Days With You. Its storyline and characters are completely separate from 14DWY, so you don't have to worry about them while playing 14DWY.

[nanihirunkits]

I'll stay just like this until you agree to be my friend.

HIGH SCHOOL FRENEMY | EP6

[mauricerudy]

[ao3-shenanigans]

Sometimes after a big day, plushie and fanfic time is good.

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[piercedmorbid]

heyyy!

i’d love a prompt abt the reader goes to a party with charlie, kirby, robbie, jill & olivia and she gets rlly drunk. charlie has had a crush on her for YEARS so he immediately starts taking care of her and being his super shy & sweet self <33

ugh i just love him so much <3

thank u! <3

𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 … —— charlie walker 🎥.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ pairing: charlie walker x fem!reader.

word count: 1,580

warnings / content: none! tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol, throwing up, charlie being an absolute dork, sweet lover boy yearning, a little bit of angst...

notes: I KNOW YOU SAID PROMPT BUT... i got carried away sorry... </3 thank you for this request ! so excited to write this + i hope you enjoy ... i love charlie so much my silly, silly lover boy. & maybe a part 2 ?? :0

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

his hand rested on the cool wood of the bathroom door, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as his eyes landed on you slouched against the bathtub.

"there you are."

charlie let his arm drop from the door as he approached you - your bleary eyes flicking up slowly to meet the familiar face with a dazed but welcome expression.

"charrr... hiii!" you slurred - waving at him with a soft smile - watching the way he crouched next to you with a flash of concern on his features but his usual stupidly cute lop-sided smile brushed against his lips when he saw that you were alright.

even as you were now - drunk on the bathroom floor, barely able to even form a coherent sentence without giggling - his throat suddenly felt dry... you were beautiful.

your hair was a little messy - strands sticking to your forehead and cheeks, lips still glossed and pretty from when kirby and olivia had helped you put some make-up on earlier during the night (though some of it had rubbed off on the various cups you sipped on during the party), and your outfit was gorgeous as always - hugging every single curve on your body in a way that was almost lethal and charlie had to fight every instinct in his body not to stare.

"yeah, well, just wanted to check up on you." he said. realising it sounded a little corny, a soft pink dusted his cheeks and he quickly added- "and- and, uh, robbie still won't stop flirting with olivia... it's painful to watch so i went looking for an escape."

"still?" you asked, baffled.

even before they entered the house party, robbie was planning all sorts of advances on olivia who looked nothing more than displeased at the idea and spent the entire night running away and avoiding the poor boy. charlie dramatically rubbed his temples at the thought and shook his head, "still. i mean seriously - he won't give up! kirby's too busy keeping an eye on jill to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid so i was left on babysitting duty."

honestly, you were beginning to feel a little lonely sat up here on your own but it was better than being downstairs with all the noise when you were this drunk. you hardly even remembered how you ended up this bad but you were happy that charlie was here to update you on the situation. he was always like that.

his eyes followed you wherever you went. effortlessly. you were the first thing in the room he looked for - if you weren't there, he would search for you. with you, it was easy. as easy as breathing - he could watch you, talk to you, be with you for days and still be fascinated with every little thing that you did. since the very beginning of the year, up until now, charlie had always always noticed you - starting off only as a distant admirer until he was lucky enough that you were introduced to him through jill and now he was closer to you than ever. closer to you than he had even imagined. he cherished every moment he had - no matter how small - the moment your fingers brushed slightly when you passed him a hand-out in class... or even when your eyes met for only a brief few seconds in the hallways - all of it, he recorded in his memory to replay to himself on those lonely nights in his bed, imagining the warmth of your body next to his.

he craved you so badly sometimes that it felt almost nauseous.

to feel his fingers graze the soft skin on your upper arm, tracing a line to your jaw - to feel his lips against your knuckles, your cheekbones, your forehead - to feel you curled up with your head on his chest, his fingers in your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your scalp until sleep took the both of you peacefully in the night. sometimes, he would squeeze his pillow against him - imagining it was your soft body he was embracing and he would close his eyes and imagine the way you would look at him. one day, he told himself, one day you would look at him with that bewitching gaze and tell him that you loved him and wanted him and needed him as badly as he needed you.

but, for now, this was the best he could have.

"i... don't feel too good..." you managed to mutter out, blinking to try and clear the blur from your vision.

"huh? are you- are you okay?" his brows skewed in worry as he leaned down to watch your expression, carefully.

"yeah i- oh god."

your mind was dizzy - the lights in the bathroom were too bright and you felt your stomach churn as you quickly pressed a hand to your mouth. oh fuck.

charlie seemed to know you better than you did as he quickly reached down, his slender fingers threading through your hair and pulling it back as he ushered you carefully to the edge of the toilet. he gently pulled the loose strands at the front away from your face as you threw up in the toilet -

"oh god - i'm so sorry..." you apologised quickly in between short gasps as you felt your throat burn. "i didn't mean for you to have to babysit me as well-"

"shh, shh, shh... it's okay, i don't mind." he hummed - his free hand trailing a soft line from your shoulder to your upper back as he rubbed soothing circles against your shirt. that was the truth. charlie really didn't mind. for you, he would do anything and... being able to take care of you right now? this was all he could ask for.

"i think you drank too much," he laughed - watching as you nodded, feeling a lot better now that the alcohol was out of your system. "um.. i-... want me to.. to get you some water?" he asked.

"would you? you're so, so sweet, char. honestly..."

charlie quickly brushed off the compliment but he couldn't deny the way his heart fluttered at those words. "alright, you stay here. i'll go grab you a drink... don't move, okay?"

"don't think i can..." you teased, with a little cough as you slumped against the bath tub again.

it wasn't long before he returned with two glasses of water and sat himself down in front of you, grabbing some of the toilet roll and reaching up to wipe around your mouth - cleaning up the lipstick that smudged a little and dabbing around your eyes to clear the small tears that escaped from when you threw up. so pretty - it was unfair. nothing you did deterred him... he was so utterly obsessed and devoted to you.

"here."

he brought the glass up to your lips, the cool water calming you down as you sipped gratefully - a hand reaching up to hold the glass, placed over charlie's own hand as you closed your eyes.

he caught his bottom lip between his teeth at your touch as you finished the first glass and thanked him again -

"could you... turn the lights off? 'm sorry.. 's too bright."

"huh? oh- o-of course!" he was eager to do anything to help. he reached up and flicked the light switch, letting the warm, orange glow of the hallway shine into the bathroom. a small, maybe even a 'seflish' pang of disappointment spread in his chest when he realised he had to let go of your hand but...

you nod - feeling your head rest against his shoulder, shuffling closer to feel his warmth. you wanted to be near him, wanted to just... just get comfortable. he smelt of shampoo, cotton and a small undertone of aftershave - it felt so familiar.

he stiffened at the contact of your head on his shoulder but he couldn't help the smile that stretched on his face, his hands slowly moving up to brush some of the strands out from your face. he stayed so still afraid that if he moved, you might change your mind and pull away from him.

the feeling of being close to him was so nice - you felt so warm but ...

"thank you again... really. you're the best." you sigh - "don't know what i'd do without you..."

"it's just water," he laughed, brushing it off but ...

his chest felt warm.

this was okay. for now, this was okay.

your head was resting on his shoulder and his hand hesitantly reached towards yours - gently intertwining your fingers and when he felt you squeeze his hand, he closed his eyes to savour the feeling. he wanted to continue taking care of you - ideally, he wanted to do more for you like tuck you into bed or something but... this was okay. more than.

yes, it was just water and, yes, you're just resting your head and you're just holding his hand. but he was grateful.

his heart panged with sentiment -

you were just friends.

he knew that he would never get what he wanted. but at least, just for tonight, he got very, very close.