small gestures w/ kang yeosang
yeosang might not have the easiest time singing out his love for you for everyone to hear, but he can certainly whisper it. he can do the little things that add up, piling on top of one another until they weigh just as much as that grand gesture that he’s simply too shy to do. it’s all there, his love, in the packets of your favourite sweets that end up in your cupboards without you ever remembering buying them, and in your favourite teddy that gets tucked in every time he makes the bed for you. the freshly dried towels ready and waiting for when you’re finished soaking in the bath, and the hot water bottle that waits on your side of the bed you you to curl up around.
he can’t scream his love, but that doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t belong to you. it doesn’t mean that every ounce of his soul isn’t already tucked neatly into your pocket for you to carry around with you all day long. it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t beg the sandman to give him dreams of you every time he closes his eyes after the end of a long day. it just means that you’re the only one who gets to have him like that. why would he make a grand spectacle of his love when the only person who needs to see it is you?
“are you tired?” he murmurs one evening after spending the last 10 minutes watching your blinks get gradually slower and slower. he knows the answer to his question; he’s spent hours studying you to the point where he could pin point your exact feeling just from a minuscule twitch of a muscle in your brow. it doesn’t hurt to ask, though. after all, how else is he supposed to hear your sleepy voice if he doesn’t draw it out of you? it’s music to his ears, the way it dips half an octave, your syllables long and drawn out as you try to piece them together in your weary brain. your intermittent hums mixed in with your uncertain words are so sweet, like a sleepy little kitten purring on his lap. he could listen to you in this state forever, but he wouldn’t want to. as much as he loves this side of you, he loves every other side of you just as much.
“a little bit,” your voice buzzes like cicadas in summer, a wash of familiarity and comfort sweeping over him and filling him with a need to remember this moment for the rest of his life. he squirrels it away in the back of his brain for safe keeping, putting it somewhere he’ll remember so he can pull it out again whenever he’s alone.
“okay,” he grins as he watches your head tip forward a little as the sleepiness begins to win, “hurry on upstairs and get ready for bed, then. i’ll be with you soon.” and that’s a promise. the moment your favourite blanket has finished a quick five minutes in the drier to make it the perfect temperature for you, and the hot water bottle that sits by the kettle is filled, he’ll be on his way up the stairs to meet you in bed. he just has to make sure you know how much he loves you first.