Love, that’s a word he hadn’t been familiar with for a few years. But you were so insistent, never giving up on him no matter what, even after how horribly he treated you in the past. Sometimes he thought he didn’t deserve it, not that he would tell you that though, you could probably sense his guilt everytime he touched your skin, he’d been so gentle with you since he came to his senses. He’s tapped your forehead a few times, a small act of affection he’d inherited from his late brother. It was different, he’d felt drawn to your lips for a few weeks now, he wasn’t a greedy man, but he felt like he wanted you all to himself. He tried to tame down his urges, he was still always worried about accidentally hurting you, though he never had since everything in the past

You both were standing in the clearing, trees surrounding both of you, there’s a gap between the trees, big enough so the moon peaked out light at the two of you. You looked so serine, as always, with the moonlight shining on you like that. He approached you, moving his gaze over you “You look really pretty.” He admits sheepishly, putting a hand on your cheek, a gentle pressure remaining there, his touch was almost as faint as a ghost’s touch. He wanted so badly to lean in, shut the distance, but he felt oddly nervous, how weird for the usually aloof and irritable boy.