the hangout ended and you brought johnny home, helped him out of his shoes, tucked him into bed. his eyes were glossy. his words a little slurred.

“you’re such a handful,” you murmured, easing him down onto the bed.

johnny flopped back with a grin, cheeks flushed, hair messy from the wind. “you love it,” he mumbled.

you smiled, brushing a curl from his forehead. “okay, sleep. i’ll go now—”

but his fingers curled around your wrist.

“stay with me tonight?” he mumbled, voice soft against the pillow.

you froze. “johnny…”

he blinked up at you. “you make me happy,” he whispered. “ 'm not ready for it to end.”

your heart stuttered as he pouts drunkenly, those sad puppy eyes doing it's magic.

you sat on the edge of the bed. brushed a thumb over the crease between his brows. “one condition,” you said quietly.

his lovesick gaze found yours. “what?”

“tell me the best part of your day.”

johnny's lips lifted, slow. sweet.

“easy,” he said, pulling you closer. “this."

he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest like it was the only place he felt safe. "holding you in my arms.”

your heart twisted a little. because maybe it wasn’t fake anymore. not for either of you.