ed has already drifted off into space, but edd lays next to him, absorbing his radiating warmth and listening to his gentle breathing. he can't sleep, not tonight. there are words like rattling dice in his head, words he won't soon forget. they rolled off of ed's tongue so easily, something that was less of a confession and more of a statement of fact, like one of the many absent remarks he made when they were children. in a way, he almost envies ed for being able to say them so easily while edd has only ever been able to say it in gentle kisses, perfectly preserved hymenopterans, enclosed hands and sitting through hours of monster movies. edd was loved. loved by a lovable oaf. he smiles at the thought and sits up, looking over a sleeping ed. he's finally mustered up the courage to say it back, and some distant part of edd hopes that maybe ed will hear the words in his dream and know that he's loved.