You've had a hard life. At least, that's what Dell says. It's certainly made it hard for you to talk to or even be around anyone, much less trust them. But somehow, this gruff Texan has earned it. There's just something open and honest about his calloused hands and the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and that combined with his willingness to listen has made it so you could trust him with your life.

So when one evening you're out on a stroll and he asks you to close your eyes, you smile and oblige, sitting still as he ties a bandana around your eyes, though you do jump a little when he reaches from behind to steer you by the shoulders.

After a few moments, curiosity gets the better of you. "What's this about?"

"Nothin' much." You know him well enough by now to know when he's trying to hide his enthusiasm, and this is definitely one of those times. "Just wanna show you somethin'."

You decide to play along. "'kay. Just don't let me run into anything," you tease.

"I'd never."

After a few minutes, several turns, and a run-in with a nosy scout, he finally taps you twice and stops. "Wait here. I'll be back in a second."

True to his word, he returns, with what you assume are keys jangling in his palm. You hear a click and the creaking of a door, and then he's close, saying, "You can open your eyes now, sweetheart."

Lifting one side of the bandana with your finger, you cautiously peer out-or, well, in-to see what looks like a small shed. There's an old fridge in the corner, as well as a sagging couch and what appear to be a few worktables around the room. In the center, emphasized by the orangey-pink rays of the sunset through the door, are several chairs arranged in a square, with a blanket draped over the top. In the middle of this are two sleeping bags and as many pillows as he could fit.

"A pillow fort?"

"Yeah. I thought we could both use a break."

He seems nervous, so you shoot him a reassuring smile, still taking in the sight. A guitar holder on the wall, some tools, and-Is that a record player in the corner? You guess the little man beside you is more sappy than you thought.

Relieved, he lets out a breath and gestures for you to make yourself at home, at which point you eagerly flop down in the middle of the pile. You watch Dell with sleepy lids as he flicks a couple of switches and gently lowers the needle to the spinning record. The first song is one you've heard him play for you before and you smile at the memory.

I can't give you anything but love, baby...

He ducks under the blanket, and you can tell his heart is beating through his chest. Adorable. Having already snuggled in, you pat the spot next to you, watching with satisfaction as he smiles and kicks his boots off, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks and coloring the tips of his ears.

Dream a while, scheme a while...

He scoots his way under the pillows, but stops when he notices you're watching. "What?"

"I love you." He blushes and his eyes flutter closed, lips parting slightly.

"I love you too."

The next day, you're late to breakfast, but neither of you skips a beat. All that matters is, your forehead is still warm from his good morning kisses and all day you keep catching him daydreaming, humming to himself.

That's more than enough for you.