Just a short little bit of Jecker fluff. Don't own, just writing for fun!
Maybe it's the way you talk? Maybe it's the way you comb your hair? Could it be the way you look at me when you know I'm scared? Maybe it's the clothes you wear - maybe black is my thing? Maybe it's the smirk you make when you know you're right? I know it's the way you always care - even when you pretend you don't. And it's definitely the way your voice cracks if you think someone could be hurt. Maybe it's the way you always know I need cheering up? Sometimes it's the way you lean over my chair and whisper in my ear.
Maybe it's the concern for me? When you're scared and worried and you don't care if anyone knows it? Could it be how you run when you know I'm safe because you have "security stuff" to do? It's okay though, because I know you're overcome with emotion. I get it too; you just don't see it. I'm surprisingly good at hiding it.
You look at me when you think I'm not paying attention, and it makes me giddy because you have a look that you only give to me. No one else gets that look. Just me. How is it that when you bring me chocolate and coffee, that it's exactly when I need it the most? Maybe you're in sync with me? Maybe you can see it when others can't? Maybe it's the way you ask if I'm alright? The timbre in your voice, the look in your eyes. Ah the eyes, that's got to be it! The depth and the courage, the hurt and the angst, the pain and the love. Your eyes always give you away, and maybe that's how I know.
Maybe it's just you. That's it. You. Everything that is you, is what makes me love you.
I think it's the hair.
The hair is what does it. The way it falls over your cheek and I long to brush it away. It's the way it bounces around you when you laugh, catching the light.
Shit.
The laugh. That's it.
The way you bite your lip to hold back a laugh that's going to be at my expense; even though I know you really want to let it out, but you're afraid of hurting my feelings. Or the way your head falls back and you laugh like you don't care who is watching. And you don't care. That's just who you are, laughing about what makes you happy. When you laugh and your eyes light up and are laughing too. God dammit.
The eyes. The eyes are it. They're blue. Which I wish you knew was my favourite colour. They show how much you love your friends. They show how much you care. They show when you're scared or nervous and you're trying to hide it.
There's this look that you give; and it's only for me. No one else receives it. It makes my heart hurt when you give me that look, because you do it when you think I can't see. It's filled with longing.
God I should tell you. That it's all of those things. They make me care. It's the way you're always happy and always optimistic, even when the situation is dire. It's your excessive obsession with all things chocolate - nothing with orange I know. Those ridiculous shoes you totter around in - even though they're so impractical. But God they look good. It's not even the shoes - it's you in them. The way you know exactly what they do to me.
Shit. I'm screwed.
I should tell you. That it's you. Just you. That you make me feel things I can't even describe.
I should tell you...but I don't. It's all I can do to just say, "Morning Jess, what have we got?" And you smile that perfect smile just for me and I see the hint again in your eyes...and I don't say it. Instead I hope you'll wait; just a little longer. Just until I can say it. It's just you. Always.
Damn. Here it comes. I can't hold it back.
"Becker?" You look. Smile; eyes crease, "Stay warm, yeah?"
"I will, Jess," and you kiss my cheek and I get butterflies. God I should tell you.
The end! May add another chapter after this as a sort of "When I Tell You" thing. Please review :)