Grayson met you at Harvard. To him, it was all some cliche, cheesy meeting that could go down in the books to adapt into one of the romance movies he used to watch in secret when he was younger.

Until now. If you had asked him to watch those movies, he would. To be fair, if you asked him to do anything he’d listen and do it automatically. He was that in love with you. And to be honest, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He pulled you closer to him, letting you nestle deep into his side underneath the plush blanket that covered the both of you. In front of you both there was a coffee table that had some of your favorite snacks.

“This movie is so stupid.” Grayson muttered into the top of your head, rolling his eyes. Despite that, he was looking at the screen anyway.