Saying that Berwald was no good with words was a lie. He was gifted, as Tino and some of their friends would say. Tino could'nt have imagined that the man could put magic on the words he wrote. When they first saw each other, in the cafe, Berwald was too busy, his face shoved into a romantic book. But his words... They spoke to his heart, to his soul. Sometimes, the swede would whisper something on his ear, over his milk-pale skin, something meaningful, something out of his endless poems and novels about him. Berwald was so reserved that most people could think he was mute.

But Tino well knew that it wasn't the case. Although, sometimes, when more inspired than normal, Berwald didn't speak and the only noise that came from him were grunts and the pen scratching the paper. But, with or without spoken words, his eyes never abandoned Tino. When they were getting ready for work in the morning, when they were eating… Those deep blue-green stare could see through him, see what was inside his pounding heart.

When their relationship started, Berwald still felt a bit self-conscious about writing about TIno next to him. But one way, when Tino had left his slumber due their post-sex cuddling, he saw the man looking at him and then looking back at his notebook, writing frantically before stopping and looking at the Finnish man again, as if he was the fuel for that display. Biting his lip, Tino sat and tried to read what Berwald was writing.

"Angel

There's a angelic being in my arms tonight

His smile is contagious

While he asks me to spend the night

His soft purple eyes

His lips that fit so well in mine

There's no way to disguise

That this person is divine

It doesn't have wings

But either way I'm in his

His stares wipe over my sins

He smiles from above

My everything he is

And I won't deny I'm in love"

The tall man let him see the poem and a slight blush crept over his stoic features. It was the first time Tino ever saw him blushing. He could see the scowl turn into a somewhat uneasy face and the smaller bit his lower lip. The taller never told him that he loved him before, but it was clear from there that he did. Maybe even more than Tino though he loved him and it made him smile. The uneasiness faded from Berwald's face and he cupped one of Tino's cheeks, pulling him closer and saying, against the skin of his neck.

"I love you." the words tickled his skin and send down warm shivers. "I love you so much that it scares me. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't... Breathe." the low, husky voice of the man made Tino let out a soft moan, as more and more shivers ran through him. "You're my muse, my everything..."

He then brought his face closer, to finally lean in for a kiss. But before, he muttered something against his lips, too low for Tino to understand. He started nibbling softly the lower lip, a bit swollen from his earlier bite and sucking it, before closing the lips into a deep and passionate kiss. Every single nerve of his body shot awake and he kissed back, searching for Berwald's heat as well. They stopped for him catch his breath and Tino's voice trembled when he said the words.

"I love you too." and he meant it, with every single meaning attached to it. As he nuzzled the other's neck, he couldn't help but feel his chest lighter.

"You're my angel," he muttered at the top of his head. "All pure silk and clouds... Don't fade away, my pretty dream." he started kissing down his forehead, his nose, cheeks and reached out for the smaller's lips again, caressing his back. Everything in that embrace was so perfect, from the heat between their bodies, from the words coming from his boyfriend, his partner, his husband...

He couldn't help but drawn himself closer. That hungry, inspired author was all his. The man couldn't help but feel proud, of himself and of the one he choose. "Tell me more." Tino asked, his voice low and in trance. "I want to hear more..." the words, in that low and deep voice, felt so good against his skin, with the swede's hot breath creeping up and giving him goose bumps. The taller man, that was too busy with his exposed neck, reached up to his ear. "You're sheer perfection, from head to toe. Your eyes, they're sparkling on their own." his thick Swedish accent, overflowing with emotion, made those words feel so truthful. He accidentally slipped on his mother language, "Jag älskar dig, min ängel violetta ögon."

"What?" Tino's smile increased, as if he could feel that the swede said something beautiful again. Even if he was Finnish, he lived in a place where most of the people didn't speak Swedish. "Tell me again..."

"I love you, my angel of violet eyes," the way the words left his mouth were enough to make Tino shudder of pleasure. Berwald came over him, pressing a bit of his weight to keep the man down, before going to his ear again. Now, the smaller couldn't help but blush in a soft pink, making the taller bit his lip in exasperation. Oh God, how much he wanted to immortalize this man in his words and keep him existing until the end of time... That petite, adorable, Finnish man that stole his heart on a random coffee, as he was struggling to finish a book.

And that night, after they made passionate love, Berwald couldn't help but wonder how such an angel came as his inspiration on earth...