you were lying in deans arms after an eventful time in the bedroom, the room dark, other than the dim lamp light. his fingers gently traced small shapes over your hip.

he looked down at you in his arms, just admiring your features. he was absolutely captivated by you, the way you looked good no matter what.

he moved some hair from your face with a gentle touch, as if he’d mess something up by being too rough. he hummed softly. “you’re such a pretty, pretty face.” he said quietly, affection laced in his tone.