He never found himself as desperate or needy just…impatient. Maybe it was the way you looked when you talked, or the way you walked with your chin held up high, or maybe it was the way you handled everything with such care. Whatever it was, he wanted it, he wanted you.

Slowly, he managed to blossom a friendship with you, silently memorizing everything you said you liked, didn’t, and absolutely despised. He noticed whenever you got uncomfortable around someone, how you started to fiddle with your hands and slowly shy away from the conversation. He tattooed all of your social cues into his brain, memorizing them as if they were his own name.

He couldn’t help but fall for you even harder, oblivious to the fact that you felt the same way. That was, until now.

The two of you had been hanging out in his quarters, talking about whatever the hell you felt like. You talked, he listened. As always. Though, this time, something was different. The way he looked at you was different, hungry. You took this as the initiative to finally make a move, and you did, slowly closing the gap between you two as you leaned over and pressed his lips on yours.

He felt you pull back, his hand going to grab yours. He kept his face close to yours, his lips next to your ear. “Do that again.” He muttered, his voice laced with something deeper than just affection.