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he's in love.
she's laying in bed with the blankets bunched up at her waist, a true crime documentary playing on the television as she scrolls mindlessly through instagram, lips drawn in a straight line. he doesn't think she's noticed that he's gotten home, nor that he's stood in the doorway watching her, but he just wants to look at her for a moment longer, not have to speak.
she looks so pretty like this, all domestic and soft and wearing his hoodie, her hair a mess and skin free of any makeup, her eyes only half-open. he's been out all day and she's been home alone and he feels bad that she's waited up for him, but he figures that he'll make it up to her at some point.
their bedroom smells like the bed bath and body works candle she loves so much, the one that smells like burning wood and summer nights and that one time they drove out to malibu together and spent the night on the beach with barely there clothing and a bottle of tequila.
he wonders if this is what love really feels like. if this is what it actually is. not what he sees in movies or what he hears others describe it as, but this feeling of that one person just being your home. because that's what she is to him. she's the only thing that can ground him when he's driving himself crazy. he wonders how he can thank her for everything that she is. he figures that crawling into bed with her could be a good start.
they say that the first year of marriage is the hardest. that your relationship will be tested in all ways possible, that there's a lot of compromising that needs to be done, and learning a lot of new things about each other that you might not like too much. the first year of their marriage was a little different than fighting about her leaving a wet towel on the bed and him kicking shoes off wherever. more of arguing about his late hours spent filming, his habit of spontaneous last-minute trips, his tendency to leave her texts unread and calls unanswered.
david moves to tug off his hoodie, drawing her attention away from her phone and over to him. the bedroom lights are off but the room is illuminated by the television, a soft purple glow coming from the screen. there's a small smile on her lips when david manages to free his head from the hoodie, a fond look in her eyes. "hey," she breathes, eyes watching as he makes his way towards the bed. "good day?"
he shrugs, pulling the covers off her legs momentarily so that he can slip into bed beside her, his head resting on her shoulder. she smells like the coconut shampoo she uses and vaguely of minty toothpaste. "'s okay," he answers, pressing a kiss to her jaw. he'd like to kiss her lips but tilting his head up seems like a little too much effort, and so he settles for sliding an arm around her middle and resting his hand on her stomach, fingers splaying out over her ribcage. "missed you."
she hums out a quiet noise, hand finding its way into his hair, fingers working at untangling the little knots that have managed to form. "did you?" she asks, voice soft. he nods his head, humming out a little noise of confirmation. "mm. missed you too."
neither of them say anything for a moment. she's turned her attention to the television and he's letting his eyes fall shut so that he can properly lose himself in the smell of her shampoo, in the feeling of her fingers combing through his hair, the feeling of his skin warm against hers. "love you," he says, after a moment.
she smiles. they've been together for three years and married for a few months and so hearing him say this is nothing new, but it's nice nonetheless. "i love you," she says, and looks down so that their eyes meet. "are you okay?"
he is. he's more than okay, but there's a look on his face that has her a little worried and now there's a little pout on her lips that david wants to kiss away. "yeah," he answers, clearing his throat. "just thinking."
two years ago, she could only dream of david in her bed, a ring on her finger, a house all to themselves. she smiles, her hand rubbing out the crease between his eyebrows. "'bout what, honey?" her voice is soft. it makes his heart flutter in his chest. he feels like he's falling in love again. he wonders why he feels like this right now. his hand catches hers, fingers intertwining.
he doesn't know how to explain what he's thinking of, not enough to make it make sense to her. she seems to understand that, though, or at least she lets him kiss her soft and sweet and doesn't make a move to stop him, to ask again. her fingers card through his hair. he's always been lucky. the whole youtube thing was soley based on luck, david thinks. he wonders if this is more than luck. he feels like it is, being with her. the luckiest thing that's ever happened to him.
a/n
had this typed up for like 2 months but never satisfied enough to publish it. o well i am cleaning out my drafts so enjoy this lil shitshow hehe xxx
