a/n: this is gonna be 100000x more complicated to write than the first one I did just over two hours ago.

god, twitter blew up. I love you all xD I'm so sorry for hurting your feels but it had to be done.

now, this is another ee cummings poem, because god I love him.

it is at moments after i have dreamed
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when(being fool to fancy)i have deemed

with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds

the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;

moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination, when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:

one pierced moment whiter than the rest

—turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.

- it is at moments after i have dreamed, ee cummings

dedicated to: oh god. uh, lea for forcing me to write a fluff one, hayls for being the best gf ever, ari for being amazing, lauren for being rEN, mols for saying 'lesbihonest' about my fic, and nikki for being perf.

disclaimer: I yet again don't own castle, don't own ee cummings, and only own the laptop from which I am writing this.

He dreams of her. Always. The shape of her lips, the whiteness of her teeth. Why her teeth fascinate him is beyond him, but he figures that pretty much anything about her will keep him interested until the end of time.

He dreams of the way their hands tangle together at random intervals of the day, and the way her cheeks turn slightly pink before tugging her hand away. The way, when she bites her tongue slightly, a little part sticking out from her pursed lips when she thinks hard. How he would so love to capture the said tongue in his mouth, suckle her bottom lip into his mouth before soothing it with the caress of his lips.

He dreams of the way she feels in his arms; of the way she feels when she is finally sated. The way she likes to curl up next to him, and how she grabs his arm to wrap it around her (hopefully naked) body after an especially hard day.

And then there are those times when he dreams about only her face. Of how her mouth forms the words, 'I love you', and smile brightly; that one smile that could brighten anyone's day. The smile she only lets him, and her father see.

Her eyes when they sparkle with amusement at a joke he just said, or at something she finds endearing (like that time with the baby). When they finish each other's sentences while solving a case, he knows she's thinking the same thing as he is: This is normal. This is us.

He dreams about how he loves her so much it hurts sometimes.

He also dreams about how strong she is. How she has gone through everything and nothing that anyone should go through (in his mind, that makes sense. She's so strong and brave, sometimes he wonders if it's because of what she's been through that she's the way she is. And he realizes, no matter how cruel it may seem, he wouldn't have her any other way).

In his mind, she is the one surrounded by flowers in a garden of youth, because she is young. He sees it when they kiss; when they banter; when she falls asleep before him and he watches her, not long enough to be creepy but enough to persuade himself that this is real.

That after four years, it's real. She's finally here with him.

Later, he'll dream about honeymoons and babies and starting a family with her, but for now, he's content to dream about her. Because he loves her, and that's what counts.

And when he wakes up, she'll be there. She'll be there to be everything he dreams about. And more.

She's his present.

(And she will be his future.)

so I wrote this while on FT with hayls, so y'all can be proud of me.

It's happy!angst guys! it's short but oh well.

and it's romancey so all of you can be happy.

love you guys.

thanks for reading.

[follow me on twitter – laheypup – for more rantings by moi!]