z’s note: um? hello?? excuse me??? holy fuck???? this is fucking poetry????? this is fucking art????? greenie you never cease to amaze me. i’m literally floored im speechless rn
“Okay but the thing I love about John Adrian and Chris is that they’re the type of people to love you for your raw pure human-ness. For example:
John would fall in love with the way you laugh genuinely, the way you throw your head back, the way you curl in on yourself giggling, the way you cover your mouth subconsciously, the way way your face wrinkles up. The way your face lights up when you’re excited and the way you talk with your hands when you’re excited. Your body language, the way you subtlety lean towards people you trust, everything. He would fall in love with your happiness. Okay very mannerism you have when you’re happy or content or excited. Everything that makes you happy. Because you are happiness. You make him happy and you’re just raw, pure happiness. Even if you’re aloof, even if you’re moody, even if you’re withdrawn. He memorizes every detail of your happiness no matter how subtle. Because that’s what you are for him, and he’ll do anything to be the reason you’re happy.
Adrian would fall in love with tiny, humanizing flaws that made you feel real. Acne scars, freckles, tiny wrinkles, stray hairs, wrinkled clothes, wrinkling your nose when you smile. The way your shirt moves when you stretch, the way you recover from a fall or a stumble, the toothpaste on the corners of your mouth after you brush your teeth. The way you’re not one of those people who can do no wrong, the way you don’t look perfect 24/7, the way you stutter, the way you’re a vivid, complex person, the way you’re completely uniquely separate from him even though he feels like you’re his other half. You’re raw, you’re real, and it warms his heart because he loves you and it hits him like a train every time he realizes that you love him back.
Chris would fall in love with the way he can look at you and you’re just real. Like you’re in 4K and everything else is blurry. Like when he looks at you it’s quiet, and peaceful, and he’s just grounded. You could be making a stupid face or you could be muddy or whatever and he still adores every single part of your presence because it’s there, and it makes him know that he’s more than himself because as long as you’re there his heart is on the outside of his chest and no matter what he does one part of him will always be perfect and real, and that part is you. You’re everything good. All he wants, more than anything, is to be able to freeze time, and sit with you in that quiet and hold your hand. And even more than that, he trusts you to hold his hand when it’s not quiet. Whether he’s in a room of people he thinks are better than him, whether it’s loud music he’s singing along to, whether it’s a crowd of people screaming, whether it’s a melody or it’s gunfire, he can count on you to hold his hand, to be something he can focus on, to be real.
HEAR YE! HEAR YE! Leafy has sent us a treat! This is legitimately the cutest drabble ever im in tears 🥺 also, leafie’s decided to make a writing blog, please go give them a follow and send them some love over at @leaf-dont-leav , it’s where you’ll find all of their longer works from here on out (theres a dom!harcourt coming soon and im losing my mind in anticipation)
(ps: pls keep droppin in from time to time leafie ilysm)
a/n: The original idea for this was in Chris' pov, and came from Not Me by Peach Pit. I ended up shifting over to pining!reader pov while listening to Peach Pit by Peach Pit.
Chris smile, while rare at time, was always bright and sparkling; like a ray of sun. Sometimes, though, it was like that sun was shining down on a bitterly cold day. The warmth tinged with the biting feeling of thaw. It doesn't fully reach his eyes in those moments, something dull and unfocused replacing it.
You had never noticed it before, and now that you had, something in you ached every time you caught a glimpse of it. It wasn’t a sharp feeling, more of a slow, creeping echo of poignancy. At times you noticed it carried something else, as though when whatever it was broke open, it would spill something warm and sticky. Some days you despised how much that small, hidden thing in your chest gnawed at you. All you wanted in those moments was to pry it out, put it under a microscope, study it until you knew exactly what made it tick.
You knew what it was. The way it pulled you toward Chris at all times. How it pushed you to just go over an make that smile genuine, made you want to pull him down to your level and shut up every single negative thought hanging over him that day. It made you want to tell him how much he was worth, over and over and over until you were out of breath, until the shadow that had fallen over him was chased away.
