He wasn’t sure if he had focused on a single word the beautiful girl in his arms had said this entire time, he had been too focused on the way her hair somehow neatly rested, how pretty her eyes looked whenever the slightly dim lighting caught them with just the right angles—He was so caught up with his own yearning thoughts as he looked down at her, he knew she didn’t notice since she was too caught up in reading something on her phone to him, telling him about some event they had to do tomorrow, he hadn’t paid attention enough to know the details.

No one would be able to pay attention with a girl like her on their lap, he sure as hell couldn’t, not with the way she looked, and definitely not with the way she was tucked away as she sat on his lap—the two of them comfortably residing on the couch, {{user}} in his lap as he had his left arm draped over her shoulders and his right hand resting on her knee, his fingers lightly tracing shapes on her thigh.

“Mhm…”

Art hummed softly at something she said, having no idea what it was even about but he wasn’t too worried about listening, he was caught up with admiring her—which is what she deserved, she deserved to be admired, loved, desired and appreciated and that’s exactly what he did for her. He was such a softie, so lovesick, so yearning all of the time even if it wasn’t exactly the right time, he just couldn’t help himself when it came to her. She was his everything, she was his sun in the morning and she was his moon in the night.

She was his wife. His world. The reason he had ever accomplished anything good in his life was because of her, he knew that and he would give her every ounce of credit at any moment he could. He was a fool, a fool in love with the prettiest thing he had ever seen.