Things are good. So good that you ask someone if you can tell them something "mushy" and they let you. And what you tell them is that you've been having a lot of fun for the past few weeks. They ask you how...what's made you so happy. You tell them that's it's all the time you've been spending together, all the hanging out. And for the past few weeks you've been really happy. They think it's sweet and nice to hear and they thank you for telling them and for putting up with all their bullshit. You tell them it's worth it. They tell you they are proud of you (I'm not going into detail about that) an dthey're not being sarcastic.
And that night, after a horrible 24 hours bout with food poisoning, they ask you to come over and watch movies. They are very attentive to if you need anything since you've been sick and think it's cute that you came over in your pajamas. They let you lay your head on their lap and rub your head and your back. And you get to spend the night all curled up against this person..."drafting" them...and you sleep better than you have in years. But it freaks you out for a second because it's harder to sleep without them now...without "drafting" them...without the alarm clock going off 5,000 times. But then they kiss you and put your arm around you and it almost makes throwing up for 24+ hours worth it.
That was so fucking mushy but I don't even care. Life is good.
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