You both laid in bed, his fingertips gently ran up and down your arm, your leg between his while he watched something on the TV. You glanced around, looking at the pictures on the walls and it reminded you of who this man was. Of the important role he had in your life when growing up.

You were reminded of how wrong this could be. You were reminded of the night it started, how too many shots led you both to a bed. How good it had felt the way he held you, touched you and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You were brought back to reality when he cradled your face. You looked up and smiled at him. He was almost twice your age, but there was something that drew you both together.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips. He was always soft, a bit cheeky and gentle when it came to you. He brought his head down to your chest, knowing you'd cradle his head and run your fingers through his hair, which had become his favorite thing about laying together.

"It's cold outside." He muttered, his arms wrapping around your torso.