I look over to where Mason is sleeping on his stomach beside me. The early morning sunlight is peeking in my window, lighting up his tanned skin.

The muscles of his back are pulled taut over his shoulders from the way he's hugging the pillow under his head, yet he's completely relaxed. His head is turned towards me and he's wearing an expression of contentment and a smile tugs at my lips. I find a finger entwining itself in one of his many curls and I hook the tip to pull on one and watch as it springs back into place.

I prop my head up on my hand and gaze down at him, my eyes drawn down to the bare skin of his back. The sun is painting his body an angelic golden-bronze glow and illuminating the few freckles he has. There's one on the ridge of his right shoulder blade near the center of his back that is slightly larger than the others. Softly, I let a finger from my still outstretched hand graze over the freckle. Without thinking about it, I watch as my fingertips run up and down his back and in nonsensical patterns. His skin is soft under my light touches. I keep my fingertips hovering over him, barely brushing his back so I don't wake him.

After a few minutes of drawing, I notice that the random patterns have turned into words at some point. I freeze and I can feel my eyes widen and my cheeks darken. There's a lump in my throat and I can't breathe as I realize what the words are.

'I love you.'

I'm suddenly reminded of how I felt when the first time I noticed that I checked out Mason and followed by the realization that I had a crush on him. Only this is much stronger. Before, it was me only becoming aware that I was attracted to him and then later that I had romantic feelings for him.

This? This is being hit with the knowledge that I love him. I love him. This isn't a frivolous attraction. This is big. I can hardly wrap my mind around it.

There's a fluttering in my stomach and my eyes are still wide. His skin is warm under the finger that's frozen on his back and I can feel a slight tremor in my hands. I don't want to touch him. I want to pull away and hide where he can't find me and can't find out the truth. I don't want to let him get too close to me even though we crossed that line a long time ago from over the past ten years of our friendship. I want to touch him. I want to pull him close and never let him go. I want to kiss him and whisper in his ear that I love him. I want him to know just how much I love him and how important he is to me. I don't want him to go too far where I can't follow him. I don't want to ever leave the bed.

I don't know how long I lay there, silent and frozen, but eventually, I force myself to take some deep breaths. Okay. Okay, this is fine. Totally not a big deal. Not at all.

"Hey," Mason's scratchy morning voice broke me from my thoughts. He's still on his stomach but now he's looking at me with sleepy eyes. "You okay?"

"Hmm?" It takes a few seconds to register what he asked as my mind tries to catch up. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, m'good."

His brow furrows to show his concern. "You sure, Jamie?"

I shiver from the roughness of my name in his voice.

I nod.

"You looked worried about something."

"I'm good." I try to smile comfortingly.

He looks at me for another few seconds before reaching out an arm and wrapping it around my shoulders. He pulls me into him, turning himself so we end up chest to chest, his fingers stroking lightly between my shoulder blades.

"Okay," he whispers before giving a soft, small smile. He's looking more awake now. "I'm here if you wanna talk about it. Or anything, really."

I smile back at him, a real one this time. God, how is he so perfect?

He then ducks his head down and kisses the base of my throat.

My heart skips a beat and I know that I love him. I love him so much. How did I not notice before? It makes so much sense. I don't care how I didn't realize it then; all that matters now is that I know.

I try to go about my day like normal, but I can never get it out of my head for long. My mind always drifts back to Mason for some reason or other; that he'd find this funny, he'd like that. These thoughts aren't new. I became aware of them when I realized I had a crush on him. At the time it was an 'oh, this makes sense now.' Now it's 'how did I not realize this is what love feels like.' I love him with everything I have.

It's still at the front of my mind after classes are done and we're meeting up for dinner. He's telling me about his day and it all feels so normal and right. I think the words 'I love you' more times than I can count for the rest of the evening.

"Hey." Mason nudges me. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You've sort of been zoning out today and staring at me. Is it what was bothering you this morning?"

Yes.

"No, nothing's bothering me. Just tired, is all."

It's only partly a lie. It's not bothering me to know I love him. Sure it's monumental, but it's an amazing feeling now that I've accepted it. And while I am tired, it's not why I've gotten lost in my thoughts while looking at him.

"Okay." He's still looking concerned so I smile reassuringly.

"Ready to go?"

I tried to pull my wallet out to pay, but Mason put it back in my back pocket. The brush of his fingers against my ass sends tingles up my spine.

"My turn."

I don't try to argue because I know it's pointless once he's made up his mind. It's as we're leaving that I realize he claimed it was his turn last time. When I point it out to him, he just shrugs.

"Oops?"

I roll my eyes without any heat. "Har har. Next time though," I point to him to emphasize my point- "it's my turn."

"Sure." He throws an arm around my waist and smiles. I can't help but smile back.

I wake up before Mason again the next time we share a bed; this time in his room. This morning he's on his side, curled into me- an arm slung over my waist, face pressed into my shoulder.

I tilt my head down and softly kiss the top of his curls before resting my cheek on his head. I breathe in his scent with my arms wrapped tightly around him. After a few minutes of quietly laying there together, I notice my fingers trailing over his skin again. Remembering the previous day, I make the conscious decision this time to trace the same three words over his skin. I love you. I feel so content just laying here with him in silence, thinking of how much I love him and how well we fit together.

I only stop when I notice him starting to stir. But he just pushes his face further into my shoulder and presses his body against mine as his arms pull me in tight. I can't stop my fondness from spreading to my face as my smile pulls on my cheeks. I start the gentle movement of running my hand up and down his skin, this time without my confession.

He rouses again a few minutes later and hums as I watch him wake up. He rolls his face out from my shoulder and his breathing changes, eyes fluttering. He sleepily blinks and I want to say it. I want to tell him I love him.

I'm too scared to tell him. It's too soon to tell him.

Instead, I smile and kiss him on the corner of his mouth.

"Morning, babe," he sighs happily.

"Morning," I reply.

He kisses me again and my heart swells.

He rolls over and sits up. He ruffles a hand through his hair. It doesn't do much to tame the curls; they're still sticking up on one side and pressed down on the other.

"What?"

I don't even realize I'm smiling until he's looking questioningly at me and expectant for an answer.

"Nothing." I fight back a full-out grin.

"What?" he asks again and I can't stop the giggle from escaping.

"I'm sorry! Your hair just," I flail my hands around. "It looks so ridiculous right now."

Mason squawks at me, clutching a hand over his heart. "How dare you! I invite you over and you thank me by insulting me? Why are we even friends?"

I'm laughing as he continues his mock rant.

"And now you're laughing at me!"

"I'm sorry!" I'm still giggling.

He harrumphs and rolls his eyes. "Like your bedhead is much better."

I pose as though I'm a model and say, "I know."

He rolls his eyes again as he leans over to kiss me. "You're lucky I like you," he mumbles into my lips

And I love you, I think to myself.

Instead, I say, "Dork," and climb out of bed.

Spurred on by our banter, I pull on my pants and grab a shirt out of his closet with a newfound desire for a mini-adventure.

"C'mon," I say to him as I throw another one at him. It lands on his lap, which is still covered by the blankets.

He takes a moment to look down at it then back up to me.

"Um, what?"

"Let's go. Up, up. C'mon."

"What?" Mason yawns, stretches, and it's adorable and for half a second I'm tempted to climb back into bed with him and ignore the rest of the world. "But it's our day off; I was hoping for a lazy morning for once. Why do we have to go somewhere right away?" He's complaining but he's pulling the shirt on, so I count it as a win.

I fix his hair while he puts on his jeans, grabbing his hands and pulling him up so he's standing next to me.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise." I kiss him on his nose and grab my phone, wallet, and keys.

"What is it you're wanting to do?"

"Dunno, really," I admit. "I just, I want to go outside. I want to do something, walk around and be around people. I want to be out in the air and under the sun."

Mason's head is tilted slightly to the side as he watches me ramble on, one corner of his lips tugged up.

"What's got you in such a good mood so early in the morning?"

I'm in love with you, I think. I'm in love with you and I'm happy and I just want to be with you.

I don't say that, though. I just smile, shrug and open the door.

The farmers market is already bustling with a light crowd when we arrive. I hold Mason's hand as we wander aimlessly until I pull him over to an indoor/outdoor breakfast nook. We chat over eggs and bacon in the September sun and then we're back on the streets.

I lead him around to the vendors I liked the last time I was here, pointing out different artistic tables with paintings and drawings that are similar to the posters I've been working on or am hoping to make.

"You could probably sell some of your stuff here one day," Mason says as we're walking away.

"What?" I turn to him in surprise. "No- no, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because," I fumble around for a reason for something so far out that I've never even considered it. "Because what I do isn't to sell? Like, it's for something… specific? Not for someone to walk up and buy?"

Mason just raises an eyebrow in a non-believing expression, as if asking for a better excuse.

"Like, what would I even try to sell?"

"Dunno. Inspirational posters, or something like that."

"No one would buy anything," I protest.

"I would," he says without hesitation and something flutters in my stomach. "Think about it- you don't necessarily have to sell the posters themselves. You could always have a few examples up to get your name out there. Let people come to you for when they do want something specific as commissions."

I'm left flabbergasted as he takes his turn to guide me around the square.

He sits me on a bench and says "You're good, Jamie. Better than you give yourself credit for. Just… think about it, yeah? You don't have to make a decision now, obviously, just don't completely write it off." He's gone a second later and my still-reeling mind can't follow him.

He's back shortly and is handing me a blueberry muffin that is so freshly made it's still warm.

I bite back the grin to pout at him. "I'm supposed to pay today. I'm taking you out."

"You are," Mason says as he kisses my forehead. "You're doing great and I appreciate it."

I love you, I think, smiling, I wrap a hand around the back of his neck to pull him back down into me.

The sun is warm on our skin as we continue through the market. I buy a bar of vanilla soap that smells divine and home-roasted coffee beans for Mason. He claimed he didn't need it, but I could tell he wanted it by the way he bit his lip when he was picking it up and in the way his touch lingered for half a second when he put it down.

The day is still getting hotter as it nears the middle of the day, so we stop by an ice cream shoppe and get a caramel sundae and espresso milkshake to go.

He's almost halfway done his milkshake when I pull into the parking lot near a local park, my sundae starting to melt in the cupholder.

"I'm gonna have that if you don't," Mason jokingly threatens, pointing to it.

"Fuck off," I laugh.

We wander through the park as we finish out ice cream. Mason finds a tree for us to sit under, which I'm grateful for because I didn't put on sunscreen and it's really sunny out. I wouldn't be surprised if I end up with a burn.

He sits at the base of the tree, leaning back against it and tugs me down next to him. I start to sit, but he wraps an arm around me and draws me into him until I'm falling over, sprawled over his legs. We adjust until I'm laying on my back with my head in his lap and he tangles his fingers into my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp and I feel so relaxed.

"You've got something," he gestures at my face.

"What? Where?"

I start to reach up to my face, but he catches my hand and holds it to his chest. Leans down to kiss me. I melt into him, tasting the mocha on his lips.

He strokes the back of my head with his thumb and my unoccupied hand comes up to cup his cheek. His skin is warm and soft beneath my fingers and I trace over his cheekbone into his dark curls. I can feel his steady heartbeat beneath my other palm.

Mason lightly bites my bottom lip and I whimper gasp. Suddenly realizing that I need air, I pull away from him and he chases me for a half a second before also pulling back.

His wet lips are parted and I can feel his breath dusting my face. His eyes flutter a few times before opening and meeting mine, tender and affectionate. The sun is reaching through the tree, lighting him up with gold.

The corner of his lips curls up in a gentle smile and god I love him.

I beam up at him, deliriously lovesick and happy to have him here with me under the warm sun.

"Is that… caramel pumpkin?" Mason asks, a few seconds after climbing in my car. It's a few weeks after our trip to the farmers market and I'm picking him up for a day-long study session in my room.

"... maybe. It was going to be just caramel, but they asked if I wanted the pumpkin, so I figured why not. I'll need the extra push to get me through the next six hours. Don't give me those puppy eyes," I say without pausing or looking away from the traffic. "You know I mean that godawful test, not you and before you ask, yes, you are more than good enough, but you also know I need my coffee."

"How- but, I didn't say anything!"

"I know you were going to." I glance away from the road to glance at him and he seems impressed. "Mace, I've known you for how long now?"

"Yeah, I know." He changes the topic back to my drink. "How is it?"

"Really good, actually. You probably wouldn't like it, though. Too sugary with the pumpkin, caramel, and whipped cream."

"You have such a sweet tooth," he says, jokingly rolls his eyes.

"It explains why I'm dating you," I shoot back without thinking. I'm focused on driving, so I wasn't really sure what came out of my mouth until a few seconds after the words were already out. Those few seconds were quiet and I look over to the passenger seat to see Mason's reaction. He's staring at his lap, trying (and failing) to bite back a smile.

Giving up, he turns to grin out his window, as if hoping I can't see it if he looks away. He ruffles his hair with a hand before propping his head onto his hand, conveniently covering his mouth.

I'm grinning now. He doesn't usually get shy and flustered and it's so adorable on those rare occasions when he does.

"Sap," he eventually mutters and I can hear the strain of a smile in his voice.

"Are you complaining? Cause I can-"

"No," he interrupts. "'M not complaining."

I laugh and he grumbles to 'shaddup.'

"Don't worry, I got you a coffee too."

"Oh my god, you are amazing."

"I know."

He mock-punches my shoulder and I laugh again.

I'm at my desk ten minutes later, ready to study for the test and Mason's made himself comfortable on my bed, book in hand. Two and a half hours into studying, my brain is already feeling fried.

I flop down on my bed, groaning into the bedding. "I don't wanna take the test. It's way too stressful and it's still a few days away. I feel like I've barely begun studying, yet I can feel a headache forming."

"Here," he says, and I roll my head to the side to see him put his book down. He's reaching into his bag to pull out his water bottle and is handing it to me.

I sit up as I take it from him and swallow two mouthfuls down. He also hands me a granola bar that I eat.

"C'mere." He's patting his lap.

I crawl the few inches to him and drop down again into his lap. I'm on my back, but still looking at my desk where my notes are mocking me.

"I hate this."

"I know," he says sympathetically as he traces a thumb over my cheekbone.

"I like everything else about the course. It's just the test."

"I know," he says again. He curls down and kisses my cheek. I smile softly, humming my content and appreciation.

"The prof said that literally anything can be on the test."

His fingers continue on their gentle path across my forehead, soothing out my headache, and down along the side of my face.

"That's a lot of material."

As he traces down along my jaw to my chin, he turns my head forward in one smooth motion and I blink lazily up at him.

"It's everything in class along with all the readings."

He lifts his hand from my chin and places the tip of one finger to the middle of my forehead and drags it down my nose, pulling my eyes closed like magic.

"There's, um, the textbooks- plural- and, uh."

His finger lifts off the tip of my nose before the pad of his thumb takes its place half a second later, pushing up the bridge of my nose and out, over my forehead just above my eyebrow.

"Um, the, uh, the articles online."

His other thumb joins to follow through with the same motion, but going the other way.

"And the, the..."

Cupping my cheeks with both palms, he places both thumbs between my eyebrows as he strokes over my forehead again. His two thumbs don't stop at my temples, as they did before. Instead, they continue on the arch around my eyes to draw across my cheekbones, meeting at my nose.

I try to grasp what I was saying, but I'm finding it hard to focus. I can feel the stress ebbing away as I grow boneless in Mason's lap. The more he massages out the stress lines on my face, the less I remember what I was trying to say.

I wake up half an hour later, mind clear and feeling refreshed.

"Morning, sunshine," Mason says from above me. I blink my eyes open a few times and see him looking at me with a soft smile. "Have a good nap?"

"How'd you do that?"

He grins and wiggles his fingers. "Magic."

"I know you're kidding, but it seriously was."

Mason smiles softly. "I'm glad."

Sitting up, I stretch and ask "Did you know it'd put me to sleep?"

"No. I didn't even mean to put you to sleep, I was just trying to relax you."

"And you let me sleep even though you knew I needed to study?"

"Jamie." He grabs my face in both of his hands. "You literally worked and stressed yourself into a headache. You needed the break."

"Yeah, but…" I trail off, not wanting to just give in.

"No buts. Jamie, your mental and physical health are worth way more than one test. You need to take care of yourself, too. I know you think the test is important- and it is in regard to the course- but once the course is over, it's not going to matter anymore. You, on the other hand, are far more important and matter so much more. You will always be so much more because you have your whole life in front of you and you need to take care of yourself. You can't burn yourself out too quickly."

My smile is growing at how caring and concerned and thoughtful he is, and how grateful I am to be dating him. I love him so much and I never want to be anywhere but at his side.

"What?" His eyes are flitting back and forth between both of mine, trying to read my expression. "What's that smile for? I don't know that smile. What does it mean?"

"Nothing," I say as I'm beaming at him. My heart flutters at the knowledge that he knows me so well that he can identify when I have a new kind of smile. The smile that means I love you. The smile that means I love you so much, please stay with me forever and how am I so lucky to have you? The smile that means you mean everything to me. The smile he hasn't learned to recognize yet- hasn't had the chance to learn yet.

"What's it for?" he asks again.

I grab a handful of his shirt and pull him close to me. Our noses brush and I'm staring deeply into his warm eyes. "You're just amazing and I'm honoured to call you my boyfriend."

He laughs a little self-consciously and his eyes flit down for a second before meeting mine again. "I'm honoured to call you my boyfriend, too."

I push my face forward and kiss him softly.

It's still dark out when I wake up. I blink blearily around the room, taking in the light cast down from the moon. Through the window, I can see snow falling gently. My brain is fuzzy as I think about it's the first snowfall of the year.

With my eyes half open, I fumble around the bedside table until my fingers close around my phone to check what time it is. I momentarily forget about the screen's brightness until it blinds me and I reel back and hiss in surprise. I mentally curse myself for not turning it down before going to sleep. When it's bearable, I groan when I see it says 2:17.

My eyes slowly adjust back to the dark and I turn my head to the side to look at Mason beside me. He's on his side, his body curling a little towards me.

I roll onto my side to face him and reach out to brush a curl out of his face. My fingers linger as I brush over his cheekbones and caress his jaw. I'm reminded of our trip to McCall as my gaze falls to his hand. It's resting on the pillow between us and I don't feel any qualms this time against taking it in mine.

As I lay there holding his hand, I think of how grateful I am to have him here with me. We've done everything together; the only time we've been apart was that one summer he was in Mexico. Having him next to me is a fundamental part of who I am. I don't know who I'd be if I didn't have him.

I bring his hand up to my face and press light kisses to our interlocked fingers. I bring up my other hand and let my touch graze over his skin. Watching his face, I write out the first word. 'I.' There isn't any change, so I continue with the second word. Then the third. When there's still no movement, I scrawl the same three words over and over his wrist.

My eyes eventually start to grow heavy, so I let them fall shut. I shuffle a little closer to him to press my forehead against his, his warm body driving away the November chill. I breathe in his soothing scent that washes over me and fills me up. I let it lull me to sleep and my fingers gradually slow to a stop.

I've made it a habit to write out the words I'm too scared and nervous to say.

I've just finished doodling a little heart over his chest when suddenly Mason's arm under my head shifts and wraps around me. His fingers trail along my arm until they lace together with mine.

I freeze. I realize suddenly, that my head is on his shoulder and I'm looking down; I can't see his face. Shit. Did he- is he awake? I wasn't able to watch to see if he was waking up.

A second later, my question is answered when his other hand hooks a finger under my chin to tip my head up and his warm, soft eyes meet my wide panicked ones.

"I love you, too."

I'm still frozen when he pushes his face into mine and kisses me slowly and tenderly. That breaks me out of it and I kiss him back, my fingers tightening around his.

We break apart I-don't-know-how-long later. Mason's eyes are sparkling and he is grinning.

"That's one hell of a way to wake up," he says with a light chuckle.

I flush brightly, embarrassed at having been caught.

"How long were you awake?" I ask.

"Long enough. I'll admit it took longer to realize what you were spelling than I was hoping, but it's kind of impossible to tell when guessing by touch alone. Every time I tried to subtly shift into a position to see your hands you always stopped writing and switched to just a back and forth motion."

Every time? I flush as I realize that he had been awake most if not all of those times I thought he was asleep. He had picked up on the fact that I was writing the same important thing over and over. I had thought this whole time that he was asleep for most of it and too tired to notice the difference of the words to the stroking.

"How- how long?" My voice sounds squeaky.

"How long did I know that you were writing or how long did I know what you were writing?"

"Um, both?"

"I noticed they were words back around Thanksgiving, but I didn't know what you were writing until today."

I sigh internally, relieved that I was able to keep it to myself for at least a little bit.

"Can I ask how long you were writing it?"

"Um, since September?"

"September?" His eyes widen, clearly not expecting that answer. "It's, it's December."

"I know." I flush.

He smiles softly at me when he sees my face darken.

"Hey, it's okay. It's sweet."

"It's embarrassing," I correct. I want to try and hide my face, but he's still holding a finger under my chin and his thumb is brushing over my bottom lip. It's nice and soothing, so I only avert my eyes.

"It's okay if you're not ready to say it. I'm not going to pressure you, or anything."

God, that's why I love you, isn't it? I bury my smile into his shoulder.

Mason presses a kiss to my temple and wraps his other arm around me, pulling me onto him. My whole body is pressing into his. I thread my fingers into his curls, pressing my face into his. I kiss him, slow and sweet and with everything I want to say to him.

I want to tell him. He knows now. I can tell him.

Moving my legs to straddle his hips, I sit up and take a moment to just admire him.

His strong muscled chest and arms and his tanned skin; lit up from the sun shining through the window. His shirt- which is really my shirt- is taut across his broad shoulders. His unruly curly hair. splayed out over the pillow. His lips tilting up at the corner into a smile. His eyes, warm and inviting and so trusting.

His hands fell to my thighs when I sat up, thumbs tucked under the bottom hem of my boxers and he's stroking over my skin. It's lighting me up with little blazing flames.

I lean down and press my forehead to his. His molasses eyes are unobstructed without his glasses and they're gazing up at me with love and affection.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"I love you," I whisper.

Mason's entire face splits into a goofy, giddy grin and it's contagious. Something shifts in his eyes and he pulls me into a kiss, too hard for a second before it softens. He wraps his arms around me again and sits us both up. "You love me?" Mason's eyes are crinkled with his smile.

My legs fold around his torso as I sit in his lap. "I do. I love you," I mumble into his lips.

It's nothing like the revelation I had months ago, and I think it's the best moment of my life.