#shes so crazzzzyyyy love her

[headphonegrl]

Truthfully, Jude never thought that much about love before you. He was only presented with it through romantic comedies or the literature he was forced to read in school, stories all neat and wrapped up in a bow without all the in-between moments. Though when he and love were properly acquainted he found that those were the best parts; not the sobs of declaration or the meticulously planned grand gestures, but the bits that are usually perceived as unimportant or mundane that now feel nothing but intimate.

The habit he has of trying to catch your attention from across a busy room. Sticking his tongue out and smiling ear to ear when you return the gesture, like you’re both naughty kids communicating across a classroom. Pursing his lips together as if he’s blowing a kiss and feigning rejection when you don’t follow it with the obligatory catching motion. Making himself go cross-eyed even though it gives him a headache to see you giggle discreetly into the palm of your hand.

How when he peels the skin off an orange with his fingernails and splits it in two, he always gives you the bigger half. Even though he does the opposite with everyone else, and denies all accountability when they point it out. How usually he’d fight to get the last bite of cake but now he leaves it neatly in the middle of the plate just for you. Even if it’s his favourite, even if he wants it so desperately his stomach gurgles.

All the voice notes you send where he rapidly clicks on the ‘keep’ button before it disappears forever. The comfort of having all your mini ramblings right in his pocket, like his own little podcast that makes his heart swell. He listens to your five-minute reenactment of your trip to the coffee shop as he falls asleep with his cheek squished against the pillow. On the way to training he puts his earphones in and hears you try to explain the book you just finished in one sitting.

That when you're both standing outside in the cold with your breath making clouds of condensation in front of you, he’ll without fail sacrifice his warmth for your cold hands. Lifting his arm up so you can bury them deep into his coat pockets, amongst the loose chain and crumpled up receipts. Blowing hot air onto your fingers and rubbing his palms over the back of your hands over and over like you would with two sticks to start a fire, until your bottom lips stops shivering and you break out into a smile. 

Jude doesn’t understand why everyone is wasting their time talking about proposals with a hundred red roses when getting the giggles while you brush your teeth together is right there. He believes that there should be entire film scenes dedicated to that moment when your leg knocks against his underneath the table. Entire book chapters written about what it feels like to rest his temple against the side of your shoulder. He thinks maybe then he would've thought about love a lot more, maybe even all the time.