You’re 18 and eleven days old, yet you find yourself on your bed, the same way you were days prior. At a sleepover, but this time it’s now for her birthday, you stayed up the night before baking a carrot cake. It’s nothing special but you made it with love and you’re just glad it didn’t turn out absolutely horrible. 

You made a simple buttercream frosting, coloured it with her favourite, blue. People may say it’s a colour associated with sadness and sorrow, but you like to think it’s a warm colour, just like the movie. You smile to yourself and then you imagine the look on her face when you give it to her. 

All you see is a bright smile that makes you want to try harder. You colour some of the frosting yellow and you try your best to pipe out some legible words, “happy birthday, ily” not forgetting to add a <3 and :) 

You take a step back, appreciating your masterpiece. You’ve known her for the better part of your life and with certainty you say to yourself, “she’ll love this”. 

You’re transported back to the present when she taps you on the shoulder with a tilt of her head, in a questioning manner. You look over to the clock to check if it’s time,

12:04am 

Once you got that confirmation, you tell her you’ve got a surprise for her, you pull away from her hold and step out of your bed and head to the fridge containing the cake. 

A few minutes later, you walk back into the room singing a soft happy birthday and she smiles. The same smile you would sacrifice everything for, just to see it one more time. 

She graciously says thank you and it’s all smiles from there. 

You take a seat beside her on the bed. She blows out the candles and closes her eyes. You find it cute how she wishes for something with concentration painted all over her face. It’s too early in the morning to eat cake but she takes a bite nonetheless and gives you a thumbs up, you like to think she loves it. 

The cake is placed onto the bedside table and forgotten when those thoughts come to an end. Reality sinks in, she’s 18, she’ll find her soulmate and there’s a (high) chance it won’t be you. 

Your smile falters and she notices it even when the only light illuminating your face is the moonlight seeping through the window. 

She asks what’s wrong and all you can do is shake your head. She looks at you with those eyes. Like she’s dissecting you with them. 

Then you whisper, with uncertainty, what you’ve had on your mind since you turned 18, “I’m afraid of losing you”.

And that’s when she kisses you. She kisses away all of your worry and you think she’s it. 

She’s your soulmate.

Even though a part of you still has its doubts, she simply kisses them away.

When you both part for air, her eyes look at you, like really look. They’re searching for answers and all you can do to answer them, is to kiss her once more. 

You like to think... 

no scratch that, you know she loves you, without the need for it to be produced into words.

In that moment you wish that everything was as easy as loving her. 

For that love was easy, like second nature; it was blameless.

a/n: hope y'all like how it turned out, sorry it took so long to write, just been unmotivated, I wrote another small wenseul fluff and im debating btwn posting or not, so maybe ! hope y'all liked this tho :)