more than i can hold in my heart.

favorite

Once, when Ben Warren was young, he saw his parents murmuring to each other.

He didn't hear much, but he heard his father say, "You're my favorite."

For a while, Ben didn't understand. Favorite what?

But he didn't dare ask. It seemed to be a quiet moment between his parents. So, he'd returned to watching his TV show.

As he grew up, he used that line to his girlfriends a lot. They melted for him, and he usually got the girl he wanted.

Still, he didn't know what it meant. But it seemed to work.

Then he grew up more, and he wanted to mean it. He wanted to look at someone and finally understand what Robert Warren meant, talking to Abigail Warren.

And he looked and he looked, until he found Miranda Bailey.

She was… nothing short of stunning. She had a brilliant mind, a kind heart, and fiery personality.

At first, she didn't seem special. Just another surgeon who looked down to Anesthesiologists.

And then, he found that she was more than that.

"She won't let me touch her…"

One sentence, but it was filled with so much meaning, so much emotion. He realized her lashing out to him wasn't her looking down at him. There were layers to it, something that drew him in to her.

For weeks, Miranda Bailey was all he could think about. From her strong personality, to those eyes that he can't seem to stop looking at. She was beginning to haunt him.

Ben tried to ask her out, but she let him down.

Good thing he doesn't give up easily.

Soon, they were dating, and he's in heaven. He was slowly understanding what his father meant.

One night, they were watching a movie. He wasn't really sure what was going on in it, he was too aware of Miranda's body against his. He had his arms around her, and her head was resting on his chest. He was sure she could hear his heart pounding.

Suddenly, Ben blurted out, "You're my favorite."

Miranda jerked in surprise at his loud voice. She looked up at him. "What?"

"You're my favorite." He echoed. What was he saying? He didn't know, really, but he was so in love with this woman, he just had to say something.

Her eyebrows wrinkled together, and her nose crinkled up. She was so damn adorable. His heart was so full looking at her. "Favorite what?"

Ben almost laughed. That was the same question in his head when he was a kid. But now, looking at her, he was filled with understanding.

He shrugged. "Favorite… person to look at, favorite girl to kiss," he pecked her lips, seeing the beginning signs of a blush cover her neck, up to her cheeks, "favorite voice to hear, favorite person to cuddle with, favorite notification on my phone. You're my favorite thought, favorite daydream, my favorite smile. Just… you know, you're my favorite."

Miranda pursed her lips, looking down. She didn't know what to say.

He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to get her to look at him. "Did I make you uncomfortable, Miranda?"

She shook her head, and leaned in, taking his lips on her own. The kiss was slow and gentle, but passionate nonetheless. It made his insides melt.

They pulled away, staring at each other. Miranda smiled softly. "You're my favorite too."

And Ben just knew she was the one.