You and Ricky had a beautiful relationship from the get go, he'd always but you roses and show you little acts of love, when he decides to be gentle, he likes sneak in the bathroom to draw hearts with his fingers on the steamy mirror, or leave a rose petal on the floor by the door before he left. The man was basically known for roses now.

Other days he'd be a brat on purpose to make you mad 'cause he said it looked "cute", he would tease you saying how that time you dyed your hair dark blue made you look like a blueberry, or how your circular reading glasses made you look like Harry Potter or a grandma.

But on those few days when he comes home from work with an attitude is just so hot, running a hand through his hair, tossing his suitcase on the ground without care, and yanking off his tie from exhaustion, stress, and lowkey anger although he never meant to point it at you.

But no matter what mood of the three he was in, he'd always love you regardless as did you. Although you were always gentle with him, politely asking for help with a tall shelf, or helping him trim his hair, like right now. He never went to a hair salon after he met you; a former hairdresser, now he just trusts you with whatever you want to do with it.

"Stay still, Ruì." You often called him by Ruì, his Chinese name 'cause you thought saying Ricky was too long. "I'm trying, just don't cut off too much.." He muttered sitting on a chair in the bathroom while you carefully trimmed his silver-blonde hair.