The Greta Van Fleet Collection

Let Me Call You Sweetheart (Part 2)

Author's Note: OMG you guys, 10,000 reads?!? Thank you so much! I am so honored and thankful for all the support! Love and light xoxo

You wake the next morning curled up in a sea of crisp sheets and blankets to find Josh seated beside you on the edge of your bed, bearing two cups of steaming hot tea.

"Here, sweetheart." he smiles, extending the light blue mug in his hand. "Chamomile with a sprinkle of cinnamon."

"You remembered." You feel silly about the grin you can't suppress, it's only a beverage, but no, it isn't, it's so much more. It's a physical reminder that he cares enough to learn everything about you...no matter how seemingly insignificant.

He brushes a gentle kiss over your forehead and then straightens to sip carefully from his own mug. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhmm." you blush at the endearing display of affection, and then tug on the neck of his t-shirt, which just happens to be draped over you. "Comfy."

"It looks good on you." he adjusts the shirt, smoothing his hand down your ribcage.

"Last night was..." you falter, searching for words to do it justice, but the English language boasts none that could ever come close to describing what last night was.

He seems to understand your unfinished thought. Even better, he agrees. "Yes, last night definitely was..."

"Thank you." your eyes flicker down shyly. It's a strange thing to be thanking him for, or at least it feels strange...but you've never been more thankful in your life, and he should know it.

He hums in soft delight. "No need to thank me, sweetheart. Trust me. I probably enjoyed myself even more than you did. I've been waiting a very long time for that."

"Oh." You nod, unable to form a more coherent thought, because now you're reliving the events in question silently in your head.

He mercifully lets it go and changes the subject. "Are you hungry, baby?"

'Baby' makes your heart flutter. It causes an entire colony of butterflies to take flight in your stomach, as a shiver trickles down from the top of your head. It makes you feel small, and loved, protected, treasured.

Maybe you should say those things to him. You know Josh better than you know yourself, and he would love that such a simple thing has garnered such a lovely reaction; but, you take the cowards way out. "A little. Are you? I could make us something. Or we could—"

He cuts you off with a teasing grin "Are you trying to rob me of the pleasure of making breakfast for my best girl? After I was so sweet to her last night? That's just mean."

"I wouldn't dream of it." you grin right back, feeling the warmth of a blush spreading across your cheeks as you watch him meander out of the room in nothing but his pants. His bare feet padding out of the room charm you, and how is his back so alluring? He reminds you of art. Living, breathing, art.

After your shower, you step out and eye your robe. It waits just like always, hanging on the back of your door looking plush and inviting but you find you want nothing to do with it simply because it isn't his. So instead, after you brush your teeth and run a comb through your hair, you opt to throw Josh's t-shirt back over your head, along with a fresh pair of panties.

You find him singing softly to himself as he plates two beautifully executed omelets alongside buttered toast. "Hi." he tilts his head, a dish in each hand. "Don't you look cute?"

He wiggles his hips a little, miming for you to do a little spin for him. You oblige and then giggle when he groans dramatically. "You're a vision, sweetheart. A goddess in which I, a mere mortal, am unworthy."