She likes to look at him.
She likes to look at him while he sleeps. The only moment when he's still, silent, his mind not running a million miles an hour and he's lost in his dreams of stars and planets.
It never lasts long. He doesn't sleep much. She has learned that about him. He always opens his eyes and he catches her own and smiles at her and asks what she's doing and she can't really tell him she just likes to look at him so she runs her fingers through his soft hair and kisses him and nestles in his arms.
She likes to look at him while he he works at his desk, his sleeves rolled up showing his bare forearms, his long fingers going through files reminding her of the gentle but passionate way they went through her whole body the night before, making her scream and shiver and catch on fire.
His adorably dorky glasses hide the concentration in his eyes while a new crazy theory makes his way in his brain in that thoughts process she can't really quite understand, but she knows in a moment he'll take his glasses off and look at her and say "Scully, take a look at this," and she will and they'll argue and he'll look at her like she's the one being crazy, that sparkle he gets in his eyes, the excitement of something strange and unexplainable happening suddenly turning him into a kid ready to get into some trouble. She will never admit it, but she never loves him more than in these moments.
She likes to look at him while he drives, eating his beloved sunflower's seeds, his eyes on the road, his hands on the wheel, his fingers tipping slightly in anticipation of what's to come.
He never shuts up. He talks and talks for the whole drive and it used to drive her crazy but she doesn't mind that much anymore.
She likes to look at his profile, that nose he thinks is a bit too big but she disagree, because she thinks everything about him is perfect just because it's his. She looks at his jawline, at that five o clock shadow she loves so much, that little bit of roughness when she presses her face against his, when he presses his face against her neck, her breasts, her tights. Those beautiful red lips she'll never get tired of kissing, especially that bottom one. She has a particular appreciation for it, its shape, its taste, the way it feels against her stomach, where he always like to stop his travels down her body for a moment before continuing down.
She likes to look at him while he plays basketball. She likes to look at his perfectly defined arms while he shoots hoops. She likes to see the muscles on his back stretch and relax with every movement.
She likes to look at him when he comes back from a run, when he's sweating and tired and smiling at her. She knows he'll try to hug her and she'll fight him away and she'll tell him he needs a shower, that he's disgusting but he'll still wrap his arms around her and she'll pretend to struggle and then he'll kiss her neck and she'll surrender. They will end up in his tiny shower and she will not care if it's late or that she had showered already because her arms are around his neck and his hands are on her hips and she's kissing him and that's the only thing that matters. He's the only thing that matters.
She likes to look at him when they've had a very bad day and they're both broken and beaten by the life they have chosen. She likes to look at him in those moments because he gives her strength, his determination to keep going stronger than any fear, any setback, any pain. She can see it in his eyes that he's ready to die for his cause and that scares her a little, but also pushes her to keep going, to not give up on this. To not give up on him.
He holds her hand tight, holding on to her, she's the only thing he has. He looks at her and she can see the darkness in him, the pain, the obsession, the loneliness, all the weights he has on his shoulders, all that is left when he loses his facade of sarcasm and wit. She's not scared. She knows that darkness is part of him and she can see it like no one else, and she tries to pick up his pieces just like he tries to pick up hers, and that is why they belong together. They share one single broken soul.
She likes to look at him when they make love. She looks in his eyes while he moves inside her and she knows they are made for each other, she knows nothing is strong enough to break them apart. And she looks in his eyes and she feels him everywhere and she never knew love could be like this. She clings on him and shivers and calls out his name, his real name, she knows this is the only time he doesn't mind. And she feels him shiver with her and then he kisses her and presses his forehead against hers and whispers "I love you" and she looks at him and she feels like her heart can't contain all the love she's feeling so she just looks at him.
She likes to look at him.