Top Gun Imagines

42. Favorite (Bob - Robert Floyd)

(Published January 21, 2024)

   I was sprawled out on the leather couch, my head in Bob's lap.  Both of us were clad in our favorite sweatpants and comfy sweaters, synonymous to the lazy day we were having.  His fingers played softly with my slightly tangled hair that I hadn't bothered to brush as we watched the final scenes of the rom-com we had put on.  I had missed most of the movie, dozing off when the storyline bored me.  Usually I loved rom-coms, but this particular plot was over used and annoying.  Bob seemed to be enjoying it, though, so I hadn't complained.  Plus, who would fuss about getting a little extra sleep, am I right? 
   "Well, that was interesting."
   Opening my eyes, I noticed that the credits were rolling.  I grinned at his statement, turning my attention back to him.  Bob always said that after we watched a movie for the first time together.  He didn't want to dis it or claim to like it until he knew my opinions on it.  One time he had openly expressed his hatred for one of my favorite movies, and I had pouted for a solid two weeks before finally forgiving him.  These days, he knew to be cautious when trashing movies around me.  I was a movie buff, and I took bad reviews of my favorites very personally. 
   "A bit boring, if I might say so," I commented. 
   "I agree.  Way too predictable."
   "Ridiculously so."
   Powering off the TV, he looked down at me with a soft smile on his lips.  I gazed back, watching the gentle look in his eyes soften even more as the seconds ticked by.  Neither of us looked away, both sucked into each others irises.  It was a wonderful feeling, to stare at someone and not feel like a creepy girlfriend.  Bob never had a problem with my staring, which I found odd for someone as self conscious as he was.  Then again, he was a naval pilot; how self conscious could he be, in all honesty?  
   Finally, I had to break the moment of stillness between us before things got awkward.  
   "What?"
   His next words were not what I expected to hear.  
   "You're my favorite."
   I frowned slightly, not sure what he meant.  "Favorite what?"
   My expression must've worried him, because his blush kicked in and he started stammering a little as he explained it to me.  
   "Well, l-lots of things.  My favorite pair of eyes to look at.  My favorite way to spend my time off work.  My favorite name to see in my cell's notifications.  Just fill in the blank, pretty girl."
   Beaming, I sat up on the squeaky leather beside him.  Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I tucked my face into the crook of his neck.  It was one of my favorite places to hide.  Suddenly, I understood exactly what he meant.  
   "You're my favorite, too." I whispered. 
   His arms snaked around me, pulling me closer to him.  I could feel it in his touch.  I was his favorite, and he was mine.