Help You Remember | Awsten

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You're irrevocably in love...

When he touches you, it feels like you're the only two people in the world. Everything fades into the background and nothing else matters. When he looks into your eyes, your heart feels like it stops beating entirely. But it's still beating. His hand fits in yours as if it were made to hold it. It's pure electricity every time you touch. His smile makes everything better. No matter how you were feeling before, when you see his face light up and the light radiate off him, it doesn't matter anymore. It's all better. Nothing matters but him and how he makes you feel.

When he leans into your side and shows you something funny on his phone, it's like you're sharing a moment. A piece of your lives. In reality, that's what it is, but it feels deeper than that. You don't have to speak to communicate. You can communicate through your eyes, through touches, through your bodies.

That's how connected you are. You don't need words to express your emotions. You can just look at him, and he knows. And he can just look at you, and you know. It doesn't have to be voiced because it's that deep.

Only surface-level things need be voiced. When the connection is deep enough, you both just know. It's spiritual; it's emotional. It's everything.

And it scares you. You've never had this sort of connection with anyone before. It's uncharted territory, and you're nervous. You don't think he could hurt you, but you never know when it comes to people. You usually can't even trust yourself. How are you supposed to trust a different person? People are unstable, and that's a fact.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks you, touching your hand. He takes your hand in both of his and pulls it into his lap.

"You," you reply truthfully.

"What about me?" he questions, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. You feel your heart beat with the motions.

"I don't even know," you answer, looking into his eyes. You can never think straight when you look at him—especially his eyes. The shining blue/green is the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen in your entire life. Something about those eyes just draws you in. You could stare into them forever, but they're almost too precious to look at. Almost.

"You know," he says, a smile playing on his lips. You shake your head, your eyes flickering to his lips. He has such soft lips—you know because you've kissed them. But they're even softer than they appear.

"I don't."

"Would this help you remember?" he asks, leaning in slightly.

Your heart starts to beat faster and your face flushes.

"No," you reply. "You know it wouldn't," you say, but your voice has fallen to a whisper.

"I know but I just like seeing your reaction," he smirks, making your face flush more.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

And then you're kissing. Your hand moves to his face as if it belongs there. You don't have to think; you couldn't even if you tried, anyway.

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You run your fingers through his soft hair. You love how it feels under your fingertips. You breathe him in like he's air itself.

He pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss. You feel lightheaded and giddy like you always do when you kiss him. You used to think the feeling would go away with time; it doesn't.

He smiles against your lips, and you know he's laughing at some dumbass shit he did earlier. Whenever he starts laughing, you start laughing. You once managed to head butt him for this exact reason.

This time, you don't head butt him, luckily, but you do start laughing too hard to keep kissing.

"What are you laughing at?" you ask him.

"This morning," he giggles, "I wrote companties instead of companies."

You nearly snort. "Of course you did."

"I guess it's because I make you co—"

"I'm going to stop you right there," you tell him, and he giggles some more.

You can be serious with him, and other times you can just laugh about dumb shit like typos.

And honestly, isn't that all you could ask for in a person? That's a damn good connection that both your senses of humor have deteriorated so much that things like companties can make you laugh-snort. And don't even get me started on the misspellings of pregnart. I mean pergonate.



A/N

This started really sentimental then fell off the edge of logic and died

But I don't care

I'm really happy right now 

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