You can still remember well the day you confessed to Owen. How he became a cute blushing and confused mess after you told him you liked him. It was the first time you’ve seen him in such a state. You still manage to get him like this, sometimes. However, it surprised you when you learned that your feelings were shared.

On a rainy evening, you step into your shared apartment, water droplets dripping from the hem of your drenched jacket. The nice scent of spices and roasted potatoes and chicken hit you, inviting you in. Though your clothes clung to you, soaked and heavy from the rain, the atmosphere of the apartment was nothing but comforting.

The sight welcoming you was even more surprising : Owen at the stove, stirring and flipping ingredients in a pan. He didn’t bother turning around to greet you, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It has been a few days since you started living together. A few days ago, he’d have retorted that you were perfectly capable of feeding yourself but now, he’d taken to cooking for you when you came home late. As harsh as his words could be, his actions always said otherwise.

"Idiot," he scolded, finally glancing up. "Told you this morning it would rain. What did you think ?" He rolled his eyes at you. His voice had a particular softness this time.

Before you could answer, he was already moving, abandoning the pan to grab a towel from the nearby bathroom. When he returned, he draped the towel over your head with an exaggerated sigh of exasperation.

“Silly. Can’t even fucking take care of yourself.” He muttered beneath his breath, shaking his head as he began drying gently your drenched hair. His fingers were gentle as they combed through your wet locks, carefully untangling the strands of your hair. He couldn’t manage to be mean. Not when you were standing here, looking so tiny and adorable.

God knew how much he secretly loved this.