GN!Reader x Any Pedro boy you choose.
WC:1k
I just wanted an excuse to have fluffy thoughts about Pedro boys on Valentine's Day.
Always
The skin of your hands and cheeks tingles as the warmth of the apartment fights to rid them of the chill rooted deep within you. The warm air circulating brings with it the scent of something cooking something hearty, the scent alone feels like it sticking to your ribs. There's a hint of sweetness and something floral in there, too.
The source of the fresh floral scent comes into view as you move deeper into your home shedding your layers and kicking off your shoes. Reaching the vase, you close your eyes and breathe deeply. Fresh flowers always seemed so decadent, hiding beautiful blooms away from the world for only you to enjoy. These ones were exceptionally beautiful. That could be what brings a tear to your eye or it could be the realisation of the date and the fact that he remembered. Life is so hectic and the world itself so chaotic that you wouldn't have blamed him for forgetting. Truth be told you almost forgot yourself.
“Like them?” His honeyed tone carries a hint of self assurance.
By now, he knows you better than you know yourself. That phrase always struck you as odd. How could someone else know you better? Now you know. Being with him, you've been allowed to truly be yourself. There's no hiding your wants and desires, the parts of you that you were too scared to claim are now proudly on show, it's as if his love reaches all the dormant parts of you to love them too. All the things, that necessity, shame, time and the daily grind had buried, he unearthed them just to have more of you to love.
Turning, you take him in, leaning against the doorframe. “Hmmm. I see something else I like, too.”
“Oh, yeah?” His lip quirks up into a smile.
He's not wearing anything special. A t-shirt that he sometimes wears for the gym and some black sweatpants. His curls are brushed back from his face haphazardly like he ran his hands through his hair after a shower. Even with zero effort he is still breathtakingly beautiful. You often wonder which way round it goes. Does his outward beauty penetrate deeply or does the beauty of his soul, his strength, kindness, and compassion, shine out?
Pushing off from the door frame, he walks towards you carrying himself with confidence and graceful ease. The soft fabric of his t-shirt strains over his shoulders and the short sleeves bunch around his biceps as he wraps his arms around your waist. Effortlessly he pulls your body flush to his. His sturdy, well built frame brings a warm, weighty reassurance, grounding you in the moment. Nothing else exists, just you and him. The tension leaves your body in a breath. Of course it doesn't go unnoticed by him as his warm brown eyes study your face.
“What?” You become aware of just how long he's been staring at you.
“Nothing. Just wondering how I got so lucky.” He says earnestly.
Even with all your self doubt, you can't help but believe him. He's never given you a reason to doubt him. He's always been honest and true to you.
“I should be the one asking that.” You feel the swell of emotion at your own words.
Before it can claim you, he gives you a delicate kiss on the lips. “I love you.”
It's something you've heard hundreds of times from him and it never stops feeling like the first time.
Cupping his stubble dusted jaw to keep his eyes on you, you reply “I love you, too.”
You don't miss the moment of uncertainty that flickers across his face. It never ceases to amaze you that someone so loved, so confident and competent in so many ways can still be so uncertain of his worth. Maybe that vulnerability is why he is so loved. He tries to repair in others what needs to be fixed within him. The moment weighs on him too long so he sends you off to wash up for dinner.
Dinner is served by candlelight. Every bite is perfect, having been lovingly prepared. By the time the meal is over, you feel nourished on every level. He cleans up quickly, waving off any attempts from you to help. While finishing your drink you watch him. The little crease between his brows as he concentrates on getting everything done quickly. The little steps which could easily turn into a dance as he flits about. There's no one part of him which escapes your attention. No one part of him you don't love wholeheartedly. The next time he passes you can't help but reach for him.
“Huh?” he turns at your hand on his outstretched arm.
“Nothing. I just really love you.” The words sound love drunk as you sigh them out.
The smile he gives you lights up his whole face in a way you don't think you've even seen from anyone else. It's instantly infectious. It's healed you more times that you can count.
“I just really love you, too.” He huffs a laugh against your forehead before kissing it softly. Feeling how you lean into him, he knows that the tension was the only thing keeping you upright. “Come on. Let's get you in a warm shower then an early night.”
“I'm not tired.” You pout.
“Oh, really?” He gives an exaggerated yawn which pulls a genuine one from you. “Not tired my ass.”
“Maybe just a little.” You concede. “But it's Valentine's day.”
“And? We can finish celebrating tomorrow. Or the day after. Or the day after that. It's just a made up day.” He hauls you to your feet and steers you to the bathroom.
“Or the day after that?” You ask.
“Yes. Any day you want.” His tone is brisk as he tries to help you out of your clothes.
“Because you'll still be here?” That stops him in his tracks.
He may be unsure of himself sometimes but he couldn't be more sure when he answers. “Always.”
