you never expected it to be this easy. not love, not him. but somehow, with heeseung, everything fell into place like gravity had been waiting for the two of you to collide.

heeseung loves in the quietest, loudest ways. in the morning, when you’re still curled beneath the covers, he slips his fingers under the fabric just to feel your warmth. he whispers things like, “five more minutes,” even though he’s already wide awake. he kisses your forehead like it’s sacred ground. and it always is.

he doesn't just love your moments in bed, though god, he loves that too — how your body responds, how you say his name like it’s your favorite word. but it’s everything else that gets him. it’s how you cling to him when you’re scared, how your laugh cracks when you're trying not to cry, how you say “i’m fine” and he calls you out instantly, pulling you into his chest until the truth spills from you like rain.

he holds you when you break. not just in grand, cinematic moments, but on the bathroom floor at 2 a.m., when anxiety digs its claws into your skin. he holds you through the silence, through the sobs, through the shame you can’t quite name. he whispers, “i got you,” again and again, until the words aren’t a promise anymore — they’re just the truth.

heeseung kisses you when you’re happy too. when your eyes light up over something stupid, like finding your favorite snack at the store, he kisses your cheek. when you ace a test or get a compliment from someone you admire, he kisses your lips like your joy is his own. he laughs with you like he’s drunk on your smile.

when you get excited, when you bounce on your toes and talk too fast, he doesn’t tell you to calm down. no, he hugs you tight, lets you babble into his neck, grounding you with the weight of his arms around your waist. he listens. always listens.

and when you’re being dumb together — throwing popcorn at each other during movie night, arguing about who’d survive a zombie apocalypse, making up lyrics to songs in the shower — he laughs until his stomach hurts. he calls you ridiculous. you call him worse. but you both know it’s love in its purest form.

he tells you all the time, “i love it.” and you ask, “what?” pretending you don’t know.

he always says, “all of it. all of you.”

and you believe him. because with heeseung, love doesn’t need to be screamed. it’s there, in the way he looks at you like you’re the beginning and the end. it’s in the silence. in the laughter. in every kiss, every tear, every stupid, beautiful moment.

you love it all too.