You’d recently revealed your insecurities to him, the way you feel inferior to his friends and team.

Now, you’re sitting with him on the couch as he strokes your hair. He kisses your temple, every touch sends a rush of adrenaline down your spine.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, burying his face in your hair. “Pretty like the sun.”

He loved praising you, he never wanted you to feel insecure or inferior, especially to people who think so highly of you.