Might Write A Little More For This Later - Blog Posts

notes in your handwriting is prettier than any card

Summary: You write a letter to the man you love, because you hope he loves you too.

Late at night I stare off to my desk, I don’t think, I don’t shake, I’m just feeling. Longing is all my heart has done since I was small, born yearning for something I didn't even know yet. It doesn’t make sense, I don’t think it ever will. You won’t be my first love, I don’t think anyone could have been, because I’ve already had so much love in my heart since I was a little soul. The grass and the soil it grows in, the trees and the sky with the clouds in it. You remind me of  my first love, longing for you like I long for the the sun shining on my face as I lay on the ground. Keeping me warm, but not hot, soothing the bite of the cold of the snow I’ve buried myself in. I’m scared, sitting in your breakroom and listening to you speak about your day as my hands tremble. Unable to believe how you reach for me, unable to see how someone as loved as you, could ever love me. But I love you, with all my heart I do and to be able to do anything with you is more than anything I could ask for. It’s not a competition, being with someone you care about, I’d always been scared of being with someone like that. And yet here you are, smiling brightly when given the chance for competition, rushing to do better than you’ve already done. I feel your hurt though and that’s all I’ve wanted, to be your safety net and for you to want to be mine. You’re electric, I can feel the passion pulsating from your heart through the touch of your fingertips. Can I be enough to balance you out? Enough that you never leave out of losing that spark? The words in your note were scribbled out on a random scrap of paper, having been doing your best to write a note for him in his birthday card. Having handmade it with old withered printer paper, writing out the best cursive you could do, the ink of your lips sealed on the front with a simple kiss. Leaving the card blank out of embarrassment of the idea of being cheesy, the anxiety having built up over the worry of his laughter being a rejection. So you wrote out a ‘happy birthday’ and an ‘I love you’. Completely left in the dark to how the little note you’d written was taped inside, kept away in his pocket next to the dangling card clipped to his wristlet. Not saying a word about it as he ate with you in silence, cleaning dishes with you in a practiced routine. The only true way for you to know how different you were to him from everyone else was the softness of his eyes, looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. Never realizing how badly you needed to hear his words until you’d cry and beg for reassurance. Only to be met with his hand gripping yours back as you clasped it in between both of yours. He wouldn’t go a second allowing you to feel that way, even if he didn’t know how to say it. Actions spoke louder than words and he lived by that. Love wasn’t loud, oftentimes it was silent and pure, for Katsuki his love was so silent that it came out in puffs rather than whispers. The shaky breaths leaving his lips, before they touch yours, so quiet you almost don’t hear him say it. Note: Happy late birthday to my lovely cornball <3

thank you for reading, kind words and comments r always welcome!