“I love you.” It’s just after 2AM when he whispers those words, arms around you and nose buried in your hair, thinking you’re asleep. You’re not. You’re not asleep- in fact you’re stunned into sharp consciousness at the sound of those words that you hear so rarely. As playful and easygoing as he is, Baekhyun isn’t so comfortable with saying things like that outright. You’ve heard it before in times of trouble and happiness, but never have you heard it in stillness, in the spaces where it’s just you two and nothing else matters. You’ve never heard to spoken so genuinely.

    Sleep comes after your body has fully relaxed (which takes a while) and your mind settles (which takes even longer). It drags you away from reality, but even in your dreams, his words echo and chase you. They tug you along into flowers and the beach and to the park near your apartment with Baekhyun matching you step for step in it’s entirety.

    He loves me. The daisies are singing to you. He loves me. The ocean waves are warm and lapping gently at your feet. He loves me. Puppies run around the park, yipping cheerfully at you as they pass. He loves you. 

    But doubt seeps into your brain. Does he really? The happy scenes fade away. You find yourself screaming at him over god knows what, and he’s yelling right back in anger. Does he love me? Flashes of rage and tears invade your mind. Does he? Pain sears your heart and somewhere beyond the shattered glass on the floor, you see the front door, wide open and filling the room with emptiness. How ironic.

    In the real world, your body shifts, trying to get out of his embrace, but he doesn’t budge. He holds you tighter when you squirm, like his body is subconsciously not allowing you to leave.  And somehow, you feel a little reassured. You snuggle closer to him as your dreams pull you into mixed feelings, a mess of what if’s and fearful tugging at your heart mixed with his words and all the things he’s told you.

     Your body sinks into a fitful sleep, the maybe’s and what if’s tugging at your heart and, while you’re trying to fight back, you can feel that you’re losing bit by bit.

    Morning comes with the warmth of sunlight and the heat of his body, your back pressed to his chest, his arms around you as his soft fingertips dance along the skin of your waist. You turn to him, skeptical and maybe a little afraid. He said he loves you, so why can’t you bring yourself to believe him? His long fingers intertwine with yours in the silence and he smiles, real and sweet and happy.

    His forehead is pressed to yours and you hold your breath, holding back the question that you so desperately want to ask. Do you really love me? Because what if he doesn’t? You want to say something but you don’t. You can’t. But you sure as hell want to.

    Do you love me? Sure he’s said it before but is he telling the truth? Does he mean it? Baek sits up and pulls on a t-shirt, heading to the kitchen to start breakfast. You follow him and sit up on the counter, absently watching him as he begins to cook.

    Do you love me? But why would he even say it if he doesn't mean it? Why would he tell you that and make you happy only to not mean it at all? He makes Nutella toast and cooks eggs with bacon and pours out two glasses of orange juice. You watch without a word.

    “Do you love me?” The question slips from your mouth as he sets the food on the table. He turns to you in shock before walking to where you’re sitting, standing in front on you with one eyebrow raised.

    “Why do you ask?” Your heart drops clean through your stomach and hits the floor. He said it last night, but- “Are you doubting me?” Your eyes widen to the size of saucers and blood rushes to your cheeks, dropping your head at the teasing in his voice. But then he puts two fingers under your chin and levels your gaze with his. “I love you. I love you more than anything in this world and it pains me to see you look like this. So don’t make that face and smile for me.”

    A shy smile works its way onto your lips and he steps forward between your legs and pulls you to the edge of the counter, one hand holding your waist while the other brushes a strand of hair back from your face. You lean forward and capture his lips in a much-needed kiss full of assurance and promise.

    “I love you too.” And you do. Yes, you do.