Connor's POV
I woke up with Troye's small frame wrapped in my arms, his warm breath pricking my skin and causing goosebumps to rise. I peppered small, sweet kisses down from the nape of his neck to right between his shoulder blades, making him stir.
"Con?" he grumbled, his voice raspy.
"Ya babe?"
"Goodmorning."
"Goodmorning."
"You called me babe." he blushed.
"Ya, you're right, I did."
"That's cute."
He sunk back down into the pillow, still grasping onto my arm.
"Troye?" I whispered.
"Ya Con?"
"I love you."
"But what about blub?" he smirked.
"Well I blub you," I giggled "but I love you. I'm in love with you, I am perpetually in love with you. All of you. Your eyes, your lips, your nose, your voice, your bendy fingers, the way your scars paint pictures across your milky white skin, and I know it's cheesy, but it can't be explained. It's not something that we can make another word for and say it means more than love, it's just there. It's something that can only be felt, not explained."
I looked down at Troye for the first time during my whole speech to see his eyes slightly read and his cheeks wet.
"Troye, are you crying?"
"Maybe..." he smiled.
"Why?"
"I-I don't know, I just... am. I want to explain, I want to tell you" he rambled "I want to show y-"
He stopped talking.
He reached up and cupped my face in his hands, pressing our foreheads together before breathily whispering
"I will show you."
