I hum lazily, my eyes slipping shut as my head rests on your lap, my mouth stuffed with the sterile white gauze.

We’ve been together for nearly four months now and today was my wisdom tooth extraction, I asked you to come along because I knew the rest of the boys would tease the hell out of me on anaesthetic. Either way, I would want you here.

Despite resulting in extra clinginess and attempting to sing random song lyrics occasionally, I would say I’m handling the process well, at least I’m even allowing you to change my gauze every 25 minutes without fuss and taking the tylenol when needed.

We’re laid on the couch, it’s been three hours since my procedure but I’m still high on anaesthetic, embarrassingly. I’m basically falling asleep, tiredly mumbling mindless things.

It’s then that I realise we’ve never said ‘I love you’ yet. And I definitely do love you.

“I love you” I whisper, the sound being muffled by the restricting cotton that’s packed into my mouth, though my words are sincere.