This one was written for anonymous, who requested number 38 and Ladynoir.
38: Whispering "I love you" before a chaste, delicate kiss.
love is not silent
Stars twinkled like his mother's pearls, delicate and lovely against a sea of black. So many memories of running his fingers over the necklace. Warm from her skin. A hint of peony lingering from a well-loved perfume. Laughter ringing in his ears and teased from his lips.
It was so cold without her in his home. So silent.
Thunk.
He glanced over his shoulder. Ladybug approached on the rooftop, clipping her yoyo to her hip.
"You call this patrolling the city?" she asked teasingly.
He plastered on a smile and leapt to his feet. "Just taking a small break to admire the stars. They're particularly beautiful tonight." He raised one of her hands to his lips. "But not as beautiful as you."
Pink dusted her cheeks. "Are you ever going to stop with the cheesy lines?"
"Never." He looped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "But I could throw in a pun or two."
"Not the puns."
"But you're so mewtiful, my lady."
"Nooo."
"My mewtiful, mewtiful lady, won't you—"
"Stop," she said with a laugh, pressing her hand to his mouth.
His eyes crinkled into a much more genuine smile.
"You are ridiculous," she informed him.
"Yet you still agreed to be my girlfriend."
"Clearly, I wasn't thinking straight."
His lips twitched. "That so?"
"Mhmm."
He wrapped his other arm around her, dipping his head so their noses almost bumped. Her blush darkened and she moistened her lower lip. Soft, inviting. It would be easy to lean in and kiss her, but he was content to stay in this the moment. Just the two of them on this random rooftop, stars overhead. Her laughter an easy sound. His smiles quick to appear. The scent of sweet fruit and blossoms wrapping him up like a blanket of familiarity and warmth.
"I love you," he whispered.
It was not the first time he'd said the words, but she still smiled in that shy, delighted way before she nudged her nose to his, letting their breath intermingle.
"I love you too."
They kissed—a chaste brush of lips. Then he simply rested his forehead on hers and held her close.
He did not know her real name. He did not know when or if it would be safe to reveal their identities to each other, but he did know she was his partner, his friend, his home. And there was no coldness and silence here.
