You never thought that your first real relationship would involve so much silence. Yet, as quiet as it is whenever you and Near are together, it's not a weird kind of silence that leaves you unsure of your relationship. It'd be fair to compare each other's presence as a warm bath by yourself, quiet with the occasional splish of water when you move. It's just like that.

Your friends said he was sort of strange. Maybe not just him, but the fact that you two were dating in general. Because you both "didn't post each other on social media" often, how you don't ramble about him whenever it's just you and your friends hanging out. But being private but not secret sits better with you both, so you'll just leave your instagram highlight with the four photos of you and him be.

As for him? He is strange, just a little bit. White-haired boy who plays with mini robot figures and has the emotional range of a fax machine, but you knew better. Strange, yes, but he was never cold, just like that warm bath. He notices everything: when you're fidgeting, when you try to come off as not tired, when you're cold or when you feel too hot.

His affection is quiet and hidden in details. He always makes sure your usual spot at his place is clear before you arrive. He makes sure that the thermostat is set just right, even if it meant pretending to use the restroom so that he could adjust it based on if you looked cold or extra warm. Your drinks never have too much or too little ice.

Dates with near are often at his place. Maybe the occasional restaurant, as long as it wasn't in the bustling city with a gazillion people. Movie nights? At your house. No large crowds. Just you, him, and a box of 10,000 puzzle pieces spread across the floor, neatly at that. Or a meticulous effort to stack cards into a tower that collapses the moment either of you two breathe to hard.

Sometimes you read a book with your head on his shoulder or take a nap in his lap while he codes in silence. He can manage with one hand on the keyboard if the other is holding your hand or stroking your hair. There's no grand romance like a lot of people expect out of a modern relationship these days. No posting every little move with each other. A boy with sleepy eyes and restless hands who looks at you like you're the only person who's ever spoken his language.

Tonight, you're laying on your stomach across the carpet in his living room, him sitting next to you with his knees pulled to his chest as you worked together to solve another 10,000 piece puzzle of a painting of the fall of Rome. The TV is on but it's at the lowest volume.

In the quiet, he speaks up after a deep breath, as if calculating the exact phrasing that won't make his chest ache too much. "Do you ever feel the want of going outside together more often?" He asks suddenly. "If you want to go out into the city, I can try to. I figured doing this," he refers to the puzzle and his apartment, "all the time could end up becoming boring."