True love.

It was stupid and naive. But he couldn’t really help it, could he? He hadn’t believed in true love, but there was something just ever so slightly different about you. And how cute you would be whenever you had to stop yourself from looking or sounding embarrassing and he got to laugh, which he eared a slap for, but it didn’t really matter anyways. Besides, how could people not love you? He didn’t know how. You looked much cuter in moonlight, though, wrapped up in his bedsheets as he tucked a hair behind your ear.