[Against Steve's chest as he nestles in there, there's some murmurs that have no definite shape. Words that aren't really formed until finally a half sentence escapes into the air-]
-have to take your word for it.
[Because he's not sure he believes it. Not sure why that would be true. He's trouble and he's exhausting, sometimes they get heated and usually it's his fault- so he thinks. Even if they always work it out. There's also a mountain of shadows he never seems to be able to escape from. Things he doesn't like dwelling on but that have woven scars into him he might never be rid of. Just dull, over time.
If Steve says it some part of it must be true, but he thinks, as he always does, there's probably a bias there. A rose-colored lens that being in love makes the idea of loving him easier.
Even if that is true, and he's sure some part of it is, in a tired murmur-]
no subject
-have to take your word for it.
[Because he's not sure he believes it. Not sure why that would be true. He's trouble and he's exhausting, sometimes they get heated and usually it's his fault- so he thinks. Even if they always work it out. There's also a mountain of shadows he never seems to be able to escape from. Things he doesn't like dwelling on but that have woven scars into him he might never be rid of. Just dull, over time.
If Steve says it some part of it must be true, but he thinks, as he always does, there's probably a bias there. A rose-colored lens that being in love makes the idea of loving him easier.
Even if that is true, and he's sure some part of it is, in a tired murmur-]
Glad you love me, anyway.
[Selfishness will always win that one.]