Ansel Elgort Imagines

Favorite

Something about favorites is special to you...

When he told you his favorite song, you couldn't hear it the same anymore. The melody was laced with thoughts of him. His soft eyes. The touch of his hand against yours. His smile. His voice. Snapshots in time played in time to the music.
It became your favorite song, too. And you had no regrets. It was like how someone says they like a certain color. And you can't see it the same way anymore. As a matter of fact, when he told you his favorite color was blue, that became your favorite color, too.
"I like soft colors, but especially blue. Blue like the sky right after sunrise. Blue that makes you feel grateful for being alive. That's my favorite color," he said to you. Blue was the most beautiful color after that. You don't think you can change that now. It's engrained in your very being. You can't listen to his favorite song the same way or see blue the same way anymore.
But you're not complaining.
Magic mixes with his words, and that's how you know you're in love. He can be talking about his completely normal day, yet you'd be looking at him, completely entranced by his words. That's how you knew.
You should have been scared. But with him, there was nothing to be scared about. And you knew this. He could never hurt you. This was it. It wasn't logic or reason—it was instinct.
You looked into his eyes as you say, "I love you."
His brown eyes softened as he whispered, "I love you, too."
And that was that.
Nothing too elaborate or over the top. Just two people telling each other how they felt. And that was enough.
One day, you were in the kitchen washing the dishes as you listened to his favorite album. You were absently humming along to the music, and you didn't hear him come in behind you.
After a moment, he said, "I love that you love this album, too."
You nearly dropped a dish in surprise. You turned around and met his sparkling eyes.
"Of course I love it."
"You didn't before," he pointed out.
"I can change my opinion about things."
"This is why you're my favorite person," he said, and you felt your heart skip a beat.
And now you can't look at yourself same in the mirror. All those perceived flaws have virtually disappeared.
Even you have changed. At least, your perception of yourself has changed.
And you couldn't be happier.
As you lean into his side, your bodies pressed closely together, you think of how much he's helped you.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks softly, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"Just us," you respond, and he lets out a soft chuckle.
"I love you a lot. I hope you know that."
You do, but it's nice to hear it. "I love you, too."
You turn to look at him. Your eyes meet, and you lean in at the same moment. Your lips meet, making your heart beat faster. He leans into you further, pulling you closer. You kiss like you're breathing. It's natural and effortless. Although usually breathing doesn't leave you breathless.
Strange how one person's favorites can affect you so much.
But you're not complaining.

A/N
I'm kinda experiencing this first hand and I'm obsessed
No I'm not dating anyone yet
YeT