#somebody remind me to reblog this tmrw thx

[joyfulsongbird]

i love you

this was supposed to be a part of a larger series but here. take some modern au orphydice fluff at midnight <3

***

It’s so easy to say I love you.

Eurydice realizes this slowly. Over a stretch of time that feels far too long to realize something so simple. She’s always been afraid of those words. What if, when she said it, it didn’t feel right, or it wasn’t the right moment, or she didn’t really mean it? The world is complicated and the idea of love itself felt like just another layer of fear to add to all relationships. Far easier to just never say it or to wait as long as possible, to avoid making a mistake.

But she finds that she has said “I love you” so many times without knowing it.

*

The first time is after a long day at her work, and she’d come stumbling home in the dark. The apartment is pitch black, not a single light on, and she knows Orpheus is already asleep. Pushing down her disappointment, she stumbles to the couch and flops face forwards onto the cushions. He had already been gone this morning when she’d woken up, though there was a text on her phone wishing her a good day that made her smile, but she wanted to see him, wanted to hold him when it wasn’t already nighttime and they were both exhausted. Her bones ache and her fingers are stiff from the autumn air… the pillows smell like him. She can imagine him, lying here watching one of his movies, mouthing along to Singin’ In The Rain or some other oldy. The image makes her smile and she rolls onto her back, sighing audibly as she stares up at the dark ceiling. Their neighbors upstairs must be asleep too, sometimes she can hear their footsteps in nights where she can’t sleep. They’ve met the older couple a few times, mostly in passing. The woman, Persephone, gave them a welcome card when they first moved in. It’s still hanging on the fridge.

Finally, she gathers the energy to push herself off the couch and walks quietly to the kitchen. Before looking in any of the cabinets for food she knows isn’t there, she leans against the counter, scrolling through her phone, looking at pictures and texts from throughout the day, distracting herself from the gnawing hunger in her stomach and the exhaustion behind her eyes. It’s only when she reaches the text from Orpheus that she had gotten around noon that day, reminding her to eat lunch and several heart emojis, that she cements herself to get dinner. She can just hear him, his voice tinged with worry, “Eurydice, you gotta remember to eat! It’s important!” Even just the thought of his worry and slight disappointment at her lack of self care is enough to get to open the fridge and flip on a light in the kitchen.

To her surprise, sitting on the first shelf is a plate, covered in fogged plastic wrap. With a post-it on top that when she pulls it off, reads “don’t forget, see you in the morning <3”. She can’t help but smile to herself, pulling the plate out and feeling a warm buzzing in her chest that can only come from him. She has only ever felt this way around her Orpheus; when he takes her hand while they’re walking and squeezes it twice, when he hugs her from behind and rests his head on top of her head. The intimacy of such a simple gesture makes her feeling infinitely better, pulling the plastic wrap off of the plate of roasted vegetables and chicken that Orpheus must’ve made for dinner that night. A nicer meal than they’re used to and she wonders if he had been expecting her back sooner, if he had been preparing a surprise dinner of some sort. Either way, the plate is piled high and she eats it slowly, wanting to savor every bite.

She can see the night outside the window, the stars hidden by the treeline but she can faintly see the glow of the moon. Casting a soft gray glow over their porch. It’s a peaceful night, the wind isn’t too strong especially for an autumn night, and the air around her feels peaceful, each breath feels the same. Light and fresh.

When she’s done, she washes the plate and dries it, carefully placing it back in their cupboards, careful not to make too much noise. It looks like he did the dishes too, it’s the least she can do since it seems like he did so much while she was out. She gets the idea from the intense cleanliness of their apartment that he might have been anxious. After living with him for about half a year at this point, she has become very comfortable with the different sides of anxious Orpheus. How he cleans when he worries, how he’ll write music when the world gets too overwhelming, so many little habits too that would take hours to name. It feels like she knows him both inside and out and not at all at the exact same time. She knows exactly how he looked when he was washing the dishes, but she could not for the life of her figure out what goes on in his head half the time. His thoughts are foreign to her, and when he voices them, she can’t help but melt at the dreamish nature that he exists in all the time.

“Our honeymoon should be at the ocean.” he’ll say out of the blue (even though they aren’t even engaged).

“Do you ever think about how there are billions of people we’ll never meet?” he’d ask.

And he sings. Oh, he sings all the time. Under his breath, it always seems like there is a song playing perpetually in his mind. She tries to convince herself at times that it gets a little too much, that anyone who dreams that much and sings that much cannot be connected with reality, but she knows she’s lying to herself. She’s jealous of him, most of the time. She wishes she could exist like that, able to disconnect from reality and paint a picture in her mind of some other place. Travel to a different realm outside of this chaos they live in.

When she’s climbing into bed, she doesn’t expect for him to be awake but nevertheless, he shifts softly and opens his arms, which she climbs into. He’s half asleep, she can tell, and slipping away into whatever dreams he has at night but she pauses for a moment, looking over at him. The moonlight from their window makes his skin glow and his eyelashes appear to be made of dark chocolate and gold. She’s always known he’s beautiful but sometimes it hits her all over again, this is her life. He’s a part of her life. And she never wants him to leave. In these quiet moments she wants to say so much.

“Thank you.” is what she whispers quietly into his chest.

“Mm, for what?” his words are slurred with sleep.

“For leaving me dinner. For making sure I eat. For being there for me.” she murmurs, fluttering her eyes closed. It feels as if they’ve had this conversation a dozen times over, like they’ve thanked each other for existing over and over.

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs into her hair. “Night, ‘rydice.”

Goodnight. I love you.

Her mind fills it in easily enough, but with her eyes closed and Orpheus heartbeat in her ears, she can’t seem to bring those words past her lips. He’s said it to her before, and she’s told him that she’s too scared, that she’s not real, and he hasn’t pressured her. He’s loved her from the start, and moved much faster than she was comfortable with but it’s been so long… maybe he’s wondering if she really does love him. But she does. Gods, she does. Orpheus says “I love you” every day, in the smallest ways possible. She can recognize them more and more, the way he did tonight, showing her love in a soft, domestic way she has never known. He didn’t need to say it.

She should be able to.