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his laughter is a sanctuary, a place where joy is both shield and sustenance.
in the quiet of the night, his voice weaves tales that lull you into dreams sweeter than any reality.
he builds your dreams with you, brick by brick, never doubting the grandeur of what you'll achieve together.
with him, happy accidents aren't just chance; they're the universe conspiring in your favor.
his presence sets the rhythm of your heart, a tempo tuned to the cadence of contentment.
he molds moments into joy, his hands shaping the clay of everyday into sculptures of happiness.
he turns proximity into an art form, each shared space a canvas for connection.
in the arena of life, he's always in your corner, his cheers the fanfare to your feats.
he appreciates the arts, often taking you to galleries and shows, igniting a shared passion for creativity.
he makes history come alive, taking you on dates to old bookshops and vintage cinemas, where every moment feels like a scene from a classic romance.
his playful antics are a constant source of joy, reminding you to cherish the lighter side of life.
he turns any space into a cozy nook, perfect for whispers and laughter.
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asking you out :—
the art studio was a special place, full of creativity and quiet whispers of inspiration. he found this cozy spot and thought it was just right to ask you something important, something that had been on his mind for a while.
he invited you to a private paint night, his voice laced with excitement. "it's a surprise," he said, a twinkle in his eye that hinted at the secret he was holding. the studio welcomed you with its cozy embrace, easels standing like silent sentinels awaiting your command, and canvases blank with anticipation.
once you both started painting, everything else just disappeared. the gentle music played along with the movement of your brushes, and every color felt like a part of the story you were painting. he encouraged you to just paint freely, following your feelings. you both laughed and made a bit of a mess with the paint, but that was all part of the fun as you got really into making your art.
the time came to show each other what you had painted. you showed off your canvas, alive with colors that danced with happiness and a sense of being free. he took a hopeful breath and showed you his painting.
and there, not said with spoken words but with a burst of colors and feelings, was his big question. "Will You Go Out With Me?" the painting asked. every letter seemed to throb with life, every shade revealing the emotions he had put into every brushstroke.
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his ears are tuned to the symphony of your soul. when you speak, he leans in, not just to hear your words but to understand the emotions behind them. he remembers the stories you've shared—the childhood dreams, the fears, the late-night musings. his eyes hold galaxies of empathy, and he'll hold your hand during thunderstorms, whispering, "we'll weather this together."
he's the one who'll sit with you on the porch, watching raindrops kiss the earth, and listen as you unravel your thoughts. his silence speaks volumes, and in those quiet moments, you realize that he's not just your partner; he's your confidant, your safe harbor.
he believes in your potential even when you doubt yourself. his eyes light up when you talk about your passions—the novel you want to write, the art you want to create, the business you dream of starting. he's not just a cheerleader; he's your co-creator. he'll brainstorm ideas with you, scribbling notes on napkins during late-night conversations.
when you stumble, he'll remind you that dreams are meant to be chased, not tucked away. and when you achieve milestones, he'll be the first to pop the champagne, celebrating your victories as if they were his own.
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sorry for going mia 😭
YOU ARE READING
stray kids oneshots/reactions 🎐
Fanfictionsoft hours open ! and so are requests 🤍 !no smuts!
