Gale wasn’t used to this: to be shown unconditional love, to be wanted without needing to give something in return.

As the stars freckled the black sky above them, Gale and his lover sat silently. His head was on their chest, arms around their waist. His lover’s hands were in his hair, playing with a few soft strands of brown.

“Gods I wouldn’t change this for the world.” Gale whispered, his eyes closing in bliss, “this is perfect— you’re perfect.”