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Summerboy !

This time: I'll be your's, you'll be mine !

part 3/36: you let Simon 'Ghost' Riley crash at your place for the summer

(previous) going nowhere, fast ! (next) C-c-c-crazy (get your ass in my bed)

5.3k words (three sections)

a/n: border is from pinterest; I didn't read this over lol; I didn't really think this fic through, idk why I didn't leave it just as a oneshot lol; bear with me :(

a/n: I planned out 36 more chapters based off the lyrics... while I'm in a writing slump oh deer; chat I forgot what colour eyes I gave him so I'm making it official he has brown eyes (object in the comments if you feel passionate to do so [I'm happy to comply with the general consensus])

Simon knew himself he was a light sleeper. Too light, in fact. He found most clocks too loud, found heaters to rumble like earthquakes, and certain dripping taps to wake him up after a single drop. But he wasn't that annoyed when he woke up to the humming of a machine at two in the morning. He prepared to work around your style of living. He was simply a guest after all. He dug into a small pocket in his duffel bag to pull out noise cancelling ear plugs that Soap 'gifted' him when Simon claimed Soap snored like a round of bullets firing directly overhead.

But he was also naturally curious as to why a machine was humming at two in the morning when it hasn't before. He focused in on the sound, a picture of a printer painting an image in his mind. Then he worried that you might be having an episode and it was something else entirely. He was here for you too.

He got up, not even the soles of his feet thought of patting against the cold tiles of your floor. He slowly opened the door, the stealth in his muscles memorised. There was light coming from under the door at the end of the corridor. The door in which you explained when he first got here was your office, and you had to keep it locked for security and clearance reasons. He understood that it wasn't necessarily a trust issue between you and him, but a precaution. Something to make you feel better.

But if the light was on, then you had to be in there. Awake at two in the morning working away? Even Simon could easily call bullshit on that.

He softly knocked on the door, hearing the machine halt and your slippers scuttering up to the door. You opened a crack, worry etched on your face, "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

He squinted from the sudden brightness gracing his eyes. He looked down at you, hoping for a refuge, "Why are you awake?"

His gravelly voice nearly made you shiver.

"Well you said you wanted to go to the beach last night and you asked me to come and I have another load of paperwork I need to read through and I want to go to the beach with you too." you quickly replied in a hushed whisper.

"I can wait another time, or go by myself if it's stressing you out." he tried to offer.

"If that's what you want to do."

He remembered when you used to make suggestions, used to make your own decisions, used to have more back bone. He could tell your more than sufficient knowledge comforted you, made you feel like an oracle. You knew exactly which decisions led to where, and you were smart enough to piece them all together for the best possible outcome.

And now you continuously doubted yourself.

"I don't want you doing god knows what at an ungodly hour just because I asked to go to a beach." he said a bit more aggressively than he should've. The state of his voice didn't help.

Your head slightly lowered, your eyes blinking at the floor. You were pretending to think, but it felt like you lost your footing completely and there was nowhere else for you to go. You were utterly clueless.

"I'm almost done with my work... just printing out the last set to read over."

You were in your pajamas that were oversized, engulfing you from the world. It pained Simon to see you so small, your body language trying to make yourself not seem as a threat so he wouldn't 'attack'.

"I'm not mad or irritated or annoyed or upset. I just worry you might be overworking yourself, love." Simon assured you.

You looked up at him, looking slightly guilty, "This is nothing, honestly."

His head tilted to the side, "We can go to the beach later in the day and you can finish this up tomorrow morning. Take lunch, even."

Your face pouted in disagreement, but at least it wasn't fear.

"But the best time is high noon."

He adored how you constantly put in effort to give him the best holiday.

"We can be a little late. The beach isn't going anywhere." he grinned.

"Yeah but I figured you'd want to tan."

"I'll just turn pink, I'm afraid."

A small smile crept on your lips and you nodded, "Little past noon it is then."

You organised the printed paper on your desk and locked the door behind you. Simon walked you to your room, even though it wasn't far. He claimed he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly if he didn't see you tucked in bed. You playfully rolled your eyes, telling him Price was rubbing off.

You had lamps all around your room that created a dim lighting, the coziest room he'd ever laid eyes on. You crawled under your covers and weighted blanket, forcing an annoyed look on your face. He nodded in satisfaction and bid you sweet dreams.

After he closed your door, you crept out of bed, carefully hiding the key under one of the lamp shades, then quickly got back in. You wondered what beach attire Simon would wear. You knew about his scars, but you hadn't seen them. You imagined he'd look like a mysterious underground fighter.

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You two taxied to the beach. You knew a rather secluded place along the coast, one where most people accessed by a boat. There was a gap, though, through the rocks if you looked close enough. You noticed it while biking.

Simon knew you couldn't drive a car. You simply weren't allowed to: deemed mentally unfit. But you were as sharp as ever: ready and packed for the beach before noon. He let you take the reigns, leading him to the best spot. He buried the umbrella stand under the sand while you laid out the towels and placed the cooler in the most 'optimal position'.

"Johnny got back to me on that trip you suggested." he started, opening a can of your favourite drink for you.

You tried not to stare at his shirtless body, his scars that peppered his body intrigued you.

"Oh really? What did he say?" you handed him a towel that laid below the ice in the cooler.

"Said he'd love to come, flattered that you invited him." he gave you a sarcastic look.

You grinned, "Don't get jealous I'm stealing your boyfriend."

It took a lot of effort to not have your eyes lower down from his face.

He took the towel out of your hand, "He is not. Just some pesky subordinate that won't leave me alone."

You giggled, "Simon, I reckon you're in love."

He scoffed, placing the cool towel behind his neck, his muscles accentuating, "Yeah, well, love looks different on me."

Your head tilted, becoming curious as you took a sip of your drink, "What does love look like on you?"

"Telling jokes to my Johnny."

You definitely fell for it, but he was definitely avoiding the question.

You playfully scowled back at his sly grin, muttering about how he can stay pink while you go tan in the water. You walked to the clear blue, sand a bit rough on your feet, but still comforting. You floated on your back, letting the sun greet your face.

The waves gently brought you back to the shore, but you continued to lie on the sand. Simon sat next to you, staring out at the water with his cheap sunglasses.

"Beaches back home are black and rocky."

You squinted up at him, his eyes following the crashing waves.

"You miss them?" you asked absent-mindedly, your eyes taking in the scars that aligned with his ribs.

"They're familiar, but this is a better view." he softly spoke, then his face looked down at you.

You smiled, poking his side, "How many girls you picked up like that?"

He scoffed, looking back out on the water, "You know I don't talk to girls. Not like that."

"Am I special, Simon?" you pressed with a shit-eating grin. Everyone knows Simon isn't one for romances.

"I can show you special, sweetheart."

He rose to his feet, and before you could process what he was thinking, you were lifted, then tossed away into the water. A yelp escaped your lips, and you crashed with the waves. He didn't throw you far, but you broke the surface with your head, glaring at him.

"That wasn't funny."

"Not for you."

"I don't appreciate your attitude, Riley. What if I can't swim?" you walked a bit towards the shore, the water at your waist.

"But you can."

Your brows were slightly raised with your lips pressed and your eyes staring into him dumbfounded. Surely he was smarter than the average soldier.

"You can't?" he scoffed, his own brows raising.

"You could've drowned me." you tried to guilt trip him.

"We both know I'd never do that to you."

Before you could quip back, there was a distant motor sound. The beach was basically a small gulf, and you were unable to see the rest of the water past the cliffs that protruded. A yacht pulled into the gulf, but your arm was pulled closer to Simon who led you out the water.

"The fuck is that?" he asked as you both stood under the shade of your umbrella, squinting.

"I mean, yachts are popular so... maybe a party?" you shrugged.

The seemingly empty yacht circled around the gulf, but stopped in front of where you two stood, but not too close. A guy around your age stepped out, wearing shorts and an unbuttoned shirt, his hair whisping around in the wind. His arms raised, beckoning you two to come forward. You glanced at Simon, who shrugged, "Seems rich, probably harmless."

And so you two walked into the water, but Simon was able to get closer to the yacht due to his height. He offered you to cling to his side so you too could be closer. You felt slightly embarrassed as you felt like a koala, but he secured an arm around your waist to give extra support. You could truly feel his scars now. They were rough against your skin, and you could deeply feel how unforgiving they were on him.

The guy ran down to the lower deck, but you noticed other people (servants?) bustling about. He leaned against the railing, eyeing you both.

"Ciao, ciao, è una spiaggia privata?" Is this a private beach? he asked, glancing around the beach.

"No, non credo." No, I don't think so you answered.

"Ah vero? Ho appena trovato questo posto su una mappa." Oh really? I found this place on a map he smiled, dimples dipping on each cheek with his blinding white teeth beaming down.

"Sì, mi sono imbattuto in questo posto." Yeah I stumbled upon this place you returned his smile. You glanced up at Simon, who had his eyes narrowed, not squinting, up at him.

"Il tuo ragazzo?" If he your boyfriend? he nodded towards the man practically carrying you.

Your body tensed and you let out a nervous chuckle.

"Ah no, il mio amico." No, my friend

He raised an eyebrow, eyes switching between you two.

"Bene, stasera organizzo una festa se volete venire." Well, I'm hosting a party tonight if you two want to come he motioned towards the rest of the yacht.

You forced your head to turn back to Simon, who was already expecting to meet your eyes.

"He's inviting us to his yacht party." you softly said in his ear.

"We don't even know his name." he returned.

"We can ask but, do you want to go?"

"Do you?"

You pulled your face away, giving him an impatient look.

"I don't know if I trust him."

"You said he's probably harmless."

"Fine, let's go." he readjusted his arm around your waist, pulling your lower half closer.

You smiled up at the guy, "Verremo." We'll come

"Perfetto! Mi chiamo Damiano." Perfect! My name is Damiano he motioned a hand towards himself.

You said your name and let Simon say his own and the yacht left. You figured after dinner would be a good time to come by.

As you two went back to the dry sand, Simon went to go reach for drinks in the cooler, but you stood awkwardly outside the shade of the umbrella. It was weird for him to hold you like that. It's what friends do, sure, but is it what you two do? Him and his buddies lean against one another to take naps, but you weren't that close to him. It was nice to have someone supporting your back, to let you hold on for something so silly.

His face lifted when he noticed you had yet to grab the drink from his hand.

"You alright?"

You blinked, his brown eyes scanning your entire body, calculated and practiced, as if you could've been shot or stabbed at any moment.

"I'm fine." you grinned, quickly taking the drink from his hand.

His arm hovered and his eyes stayed on you a moment too long, and he cleared his throat, grabbing his drink.

"You ever been to a yacht party?"

"No."

"Me neither."

He sat down on his seat, and you decide to do the same.

"You'll get the full Italy experience." you softly said, bringing the drink to your lips.

"Italy's cool, but it's not all that I came here for." he replied.

You heard the contents of his drink swish back.

"You came here to buy a new wardrobe." you teased, humbling yourself because it would be absurd if a teammate you worked with and only knew for less than a month but had been texting for over a year actually had any interest or care in you. He cared for you like a teammate and you left it at that.

"Military tells you to back a single bag and it's your whole life."

"I always thought you'd be a man of taste, but the same gym shirt and shorts are kind of depressing, Si."

You turned to look at him, the tide steadily rising.

He was already looking, "It's efficient."

Blinking and unsure of what to say, your eyes dart to the cliffs behind him.

"We should dress up tonight."

"I'm gonna need some help with that."

You grinned, already imagining that you're about to say, "I don't think any of my dresses will fit you, unfortunately."

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After a quick late lunch, Simon went out to get a better dress shirt that wasn't black, per your order. You rummaged through your old boxes, ones you had yet to open since moving here. A box filled with clothes you wore and stocked up on before your time at the academy, before the field. It didn't feel right to open it when you didn't feel normal yet. But honestly, you doubted you'd ever be the person you were before.

The box was heavily taped, too much, as if containing something dangerous; a caged monster, a curse. You had scissors in one hand, the box that was stuffed to the brim begging to be opened.

You weren't sure how long you had been staring at the box, attempting to reason yourself to open it, but Simon had came back, announcing himself. He knocked on your open door, your eyes slowly tearing off from the box and looking at him.

"Need help?" he offered, brows slightly scrunched as his eyes darted between you and teh box.

It's so silly needing assistance to open such a stupid box. A box that was incapable of harm, but you didn't want to see the skeletons you buried long ago. But your body betrayed you as your arm lifted the scissors towards them and he gingerly took them from your hand, carefully cutting the layers of tape.

You watched, expecting the box to explode, creating a pandora situation, anything dramatic. Simon opened the flaps and slid the box closer to you.

It's just old clothes.

Old clothes you loved to wear, and clothes your younger self had waited to gift to your older self for graduating. For being an adult.

"We don't have to go to the party." his voice softly cut through your racing mind.

You shook your head, "Can't let you buy a new shirt for nothing."

You grabbed the first clothing, a simple black top. It was tight and complimented your figure. It was a classic, a staple.

"I think you should go for something rather flowy." he inputted, starting to examine the clothes in the box, taking them out.

He reached for a red top while you grabbed a velvet light blue dress. It was rather short but not tight on the body, or at least the lower body. You figured this dress could match a tacky-rich vibe, or maybe it was too 2020.

Simon brought the red top to your attention, showing you the various, rather scandalous, straps.

"You wore this?"

You remembered buying it for your future self, for the clubs and partying after graduation. But even after your awards you never had the chance to cut the tag off.

You reached over the box, flicking at the tag, "Nope."

He examined it more, "So why have it if you weren't gonna wear it?"

You sighed, putting the dress aside and reaching for another article of clothing, "I was supposed to, but I got a job and besides, I'm not really the kind to party."

You reminiscently smile as you pulled out a pair of loose jeans that had clouds painted on them.

"Laswell said you were great- you are great," he cleared his throat, meticulously folding the top and laying it on the floor, "by the way."

"Thanks, but I'm not the big LT here." you grin holding a black dress.

He gave you a look but then looked at the dress in your hand. It didn't look too tight, but it wasn't that flowy. It was simple.

"You should try that on."

You chuckled, "This is so old."

"It looks timeless."

A growing feeling in your stomach didn't want to search through the box anymore, so you got up and changed into the dress. You stood in the doorway, quite awkwardly, as Simon's attention was to neatly put the clothes back into the box.

"What do you think?"

His eyes raked from the bottom up, his expression unreadable. His eyes cut away before they reached your face.

"It looks good."

That didn't boost your confidence at all. Your posture slumped as you leaned against the frame.

"I think I'll just wear shorts and some tank top then."

His eyebrows slightly rose, "I mean, I like it. You look good. Maybe heels with that? Or flats?"

He must've read your own expression quite well, or felt as if he had let you down with his approval.

"Alright!" you raised your hands, hanging your head as you stepped forward into the room, "I'll wear it."

A sigh left his body as he put the box against your wall.

"What kind of shirt did you buy?" you tilted your head.

"All I can tell you is that I will be the colourful one tonight."

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Both of you finally made it onto the yacht after Damiano sent a worker to pick you up on a small motorboat that seemed like it was for emergency use only. Simon tried to pick you up so your dress and shoes wouldn't get wet, but you insisted on handling yourself and hiked up the dress and carried your shoes. He did have to give you a little push into the boat, though.

Damiano greeted you with the widest smile and kisses on the cheek, while hugging Simon. He introduced his friends to you guys and then floated away into the bustling crowd. Everyone had to be wearing designer. At least they were about your age, maybe not Simon.

Damiano had told you it was an open bar, so you got yourself a light cocktail. It mostly tasted like syrup, so tomorrow morning won't be too bad.

"Isn't that a bit strong to start out with?" he leaned in close so his voice wouldn't drown out by the pounding music.

You glanced at his brown drink, then met his eyes, "It's a cocktail, can't be too strong."

"It was mostly vodka."

"With! syrup!" you cocked your head for emphasis.

No one lingered at the bar, simply grabbed their drinks and went back around the DJ booth, which Damiano was having the time of his life. You turned around a couple of times, surveying your surroundings, the amount of heads, the gender ratio, the exits, any hazards. But you only felt off when some of the girls' gazes led to Simon, who was surveying you.

You poked at his fun, commercially Hawaiian shirt, "This is not your style, Simon."

He looked down, fluffing out his shirt, "I told you I'd be colourful."

You propped your elbow against the table, resting your head on top of your hand, "I don't know... It doesn't really feel like you."

"I thought you said you liked it." his fingers drummed against the table.

"I do! It's just... different. New." you nodded, finishing your drink.

He turned his head towards the crowd, and you set your empty glass towards the bartender, "Those girls keep eyeing you. You should go talk to them."

He looked down at you, his eyes lingering below your eyes, but still on your face, "I'd hate to leave you alone."

You smiled, taking a step away from the bartop, "I'll be around."

You pushed Simon towards the group of girls, reassuring him and telling him all sorts of affirmations. The moment a girl greeted him, you skittered towards the booth to support Damiano. His choice of music wasn't necessarily your choice, but it wasn't boring. You eventually made your way to the front of the booth, smiling and hopping around. He beckoned you to come up. You shyly shook your head. Then he left his set and reached his arm out, and you accepted it. You danced beside him on this mini platform as he seemed to put extra effort into his hobby. You were too shy too look into the crowd, but when you did, you met Simon's brown eyes, those eyelids you could recognise anywhere.

Couple of songs went by and Damiano had simply put on a playlist. He spoke into your ear about getting a drink, and you nodded. He led you off the platform, giving you a hand as you jumped down, crashing onto him. He wrapped an arm around you, gently holding you upper arm. He had someone bring over two chairs. You two ordered your drinks; you something a bit strong to numb the pain in your feet, and he vodka redbull.

"Sono davvero contento che tu sia venuto." I'm really glad that you came he shouted, sweat glistening around his face.

"Bene, grazie per l'invito." Well, thank you for the invitation you replied, still giddy off of dancing in the limelight.

He nodded, smiling as he took a sip, eyes raking top to bottom, "Stai davvero bene." You look really good

You chuckled, about to tuck your hair behind your ear, but he went ahead and did it for you, his palm ghosting your cheek.

"Qual è l'occasione?" What's the occassion?

He shrugged, retracing his hand, "Gli studi iniziano tra un mese." Studies start in a month

You thought you internally cringed when you realised he could be starting his bachelor's degree, but he read your face just fine, laughing.

"Sono uno studente post-laurea." I'm a postgrad student

"Oh!" you awkwardly laughed, finishing your drink in one go.

He signaled the bartender for another.

"Allora, cosa ci fai qui? In Italia?" So what are you here for? In Italy?

"Vivo qui ma per lavoro" I live here but for work you replied while gesturing with your hands.

"Cosa fai?" What do you do?

"Analitica" analytics you truthfully replied. It was on your contract and technically could be on your resume if you switch jobs.

He nodded, sipping his drink, "Carina e intelligente." Pretty and smart

You shook your head, softly giggling, "Sei troppo gentile." You're too kind

He nodded, sarcastically accepting the praise as if it was a virtuous award, "È semplicemente mio dovere." It is simply my duty

You stretched out your legs a bit more, "Cosa stai studiando?" What are you studying?

"Affari, andrò a Londra il mese prossimo." Business, I will be going to London next month

Gaz talked about London a bit. He'd always tell you how you'd like it there.

You smile, "Sembra molto carino." Sounds very nice

Damiano was about to say something but his eyes slightly widened and he sat up a bit straighter. You felt a light hand on your shoulder, but you still flinched, tensed as your body choked on reflexes. Your head whipped up and Simon had his hand hovering.

"Just checking in." even with the loud music, his voice sounded calm, like he wasn't even shouting at all.

"We're fine." you replied, puzzled.

But through the strobe lights and lack of main lightings, you noticed how awkward Simon was standing, like a kid who was lost but had the slightest idea of where his parent was.

"Are you okay?" you slowly stood up.

He leaned in, talking into the ear that was facing Damiano, "Those girls... I can't talk to them."

His words were laced with terror. It made you giggle.

"Why don't you join us? You can sit with me." you offered, squishing yourself to one side of the plush chair.

"Va tutto bene?" Is everything okay? Damiano asked, his brows knitting.

"Si sente un po' timido." He's feeling a bit shy you went to rest your head against his chest, but waited to feel any tension on his body. A moment went by and he was still relaxed, so you gently let yourself sink.

Damiano scoffed, eyeing Simon, "Un tipo grosso come lui?" A big guy like him?

You grinned. If only Damiano knew what Ghost was like, "Abbiamo le nostre differenze." We have our differences

"Sembrate molto amici." You guys seem pretty close as friends his fingers motioned between you two.

Your grin faltered, and the Earth stilled for a moment. You and Simon? This is the second time Damiano had questioned your relationship.

"What'd he say?" Simon asked.

"I said, you guys seem close." Damiano repeated himself, now directly looking at Simon.

"We've been through stuff together." he gruffly replied.

"Like what?"

"Like school." you chimed in, your head no longer resting on Simon's chest.

Damiano's face was neutral, like he really didn't care at the end of the day.

"And what do you do?" he asked Simon.

"Public relations."

"With your physique?"

"I used to be a personal trainer."

Simon could lie, it's kind of his job- but lying to a civilian? It made you panic.

"How about we go dance?" you stood up, slightly wobbling in your heels but the pain did numb a bit.

"Shots first?" Damiano offered and you nodded, Simon following after you.

Shots after shots the three of you danced. You think you saw girls trying to dance with Simon but he seemed to be unbothered by them. You told yourself it was just the alcohol altering your perspective. Damiano stayed close by which made you feel bad because it seemed like you were keeping him away from his friends. It was his party after all.

The dance floor started to spin as your vision swayed, and you simply excused yourself from both men to take a breather. They both followed, slightly concerned at your state, for different reasons. Simon reached for your arm, calling your name as he did, then asked if you were okay. You leaned against a railing, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths, nodding, but he grabbed your hand, pulling it close to him, which made you face him with open eyes.

He looked at you as if you were breaking.

You withdrew your hand, eyes fluttering to the ground as you muttered an 'I'm fine'. He was supposed to be having a good time. It hurt you to see him in a constant caretaker role when you two were out. Sure, you weren't totally normal, but you manage just fine.

"Sei malato?" Are you sick? Damiano's voice filtered through behind you.

You nodded, facing towards the water instead of them.

"Solo un respiro." Just a breath

The crowd followed the party boy, girls piling out to dance on the deck. The same group of girls came dancing around Simon, and you let yourself get lost in the haze. Your mind was already half way gone, simply careless not juvenile. The group of girls swarmed around Simon again, just you and Damiano dancing with the crowd. Your back was towards Simon, not wanting to meet his worrying gaze. He shouldn't be here to babysit.

The dancing died down, and everyone slowly made their way back inside the yacht, but you and Damiano stayed out, memorising each other's numbers as your phone was in the coat closet with your bag. Simon, who you figured got swept away with the girls, came back to your side with glasses of water. You knew he was trying to sober you up before your travel back, but Damiano generously was hosting an open bar. He went back to get you your drink, leaving you a bit uncomfortable with Simon.

He still coaxed you into finishing the glass.

"You should be enjoying yourself." you bitterly tell him, but the bitterness was directed towards yourself.

"I enjoy by watching you be happy."

The noise from the crowd was too much, so you two walked over towards the center of the yacht, where you figured people jumped off the deck from. No railing; just the dark water.

"I just don't want to hold you back." you confess, looking up at him while leaning your back against the railing.

"You've never held me back, and if you did, it'd be my fault." he assured you, his eyes confident in his words.

You smiled, and he did too, "Oh yes, the big, bad LT."

A chorus of heels thumped their way to you two.

The same group of girls, with the one leading them an absolute beauty. She had her hair in a blowout, her top hanging low between her chest, and a mini skirt to accentuate the legs that stood on heels.

She even had you enamoured.

Then she smiled, directly strictly at Simon.

Her group came over, and they talked only to him, which made you want to vomit for some reason. Or whatever that unsettling feeling in your stomach was. You blamed it on the alcohol, and hoped Damiano would find you soon so the awkwardness wouldn't linger within you.

You were oblivious to the way Simon tried to brush off the girls, pretending to give up on Italian and their broken English. You didn't notice the way he only looked at you, dejected. And you definitely didn't notice when the stunning girl followed his eyesight back to you, your eyes on the deep waters. You didn't take notice how she went behind her group of friends, like she was walking away, defeated by her unsuccessful efforts into swooning Simon. You didn't heed her purposeful misstep, the perfect shoulder that brutely knocked into you. And you realised a second too late that your back became parallel to the water, and your feet were no longer on the deck.

a/n: golly my life has picked up, I don't think I'll write anything new for a month (hopefully not two); I have this like Jason Todd fanfic I started a year ago I'll probably post here in the meantime of my absence; if you want me to consistently put the word count, let me know, I only put it because I felt as if this chapter was too long

Hope you enjoyed ! Take care ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ =͟͟͞♡ I love you <3

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