dex has that kind of expression on his face that leaves people wondering if they did or said something wrong. whereas he disagrees, complains even, when you start to teach him how to smile softly — appropriately for public outings. how his indifferent facial expressions could be considered rude.

dex isn’t much different being out with you. while you feel your safest, dex is tense and alert. following the sidewalk rule, he is also very particular about holding your hand or having you wrap your arm around his. physical touch is something he learned to like, with you of course. not only for your protection, but also as an existent confirmation that you’re real and you’re with him. and it means to him more than any love confession could ever say.

surprisingly into sentimental things, such as matching coffee mugs or keychains. those would either have to be identical or of two correlating things. ocd meds can do so much, after all.

everything around your shared apartment is neatly arranged, not a spec of dust where it shouldn’t be. dex realised he’s royally fucked when the empty space he called his apartment started to feel wrong without your presence. which, he didn’t invite you to often, not that he had anything to hide, but a couple of spreadsheets of every single thing you mentioned liking in passing, list of movies you once referenced and got slightly upset he had no idea existed, two pictures — one you asked to take because the sunset looked nice, which he sent to himself from your phone while you weren’t looking, second one is a picture of you and your former best friend, who hurt you beyond repair you had to seek therapy, not that you told him a lot about it. he found said picture for science, obviously. we shall not discuss how he found it.

gets off on getting slapped in the face when you argue. it happened once in the heat of the moment, you lost control of yourself and up to his cheek your palm went. realisation came moments later and your attempt to apologise was cut short by dex talking over you, “do it again.” “what?” you uttered in confusion. a sly smile spread on his face, "i've misbehaved. tell me how can i fix this, please?" it wasn't so much about the argument anymore, more so people have always walked out on dex, and now that he has someone as irreplaceable as you, he'd rather you take it out on him, throw your firm fists at him, yell until it rings in his ears, anything but hear you footsteps dissolve into nothing for the last time.

like a needy child he would follow you everywhere around the apartment, scoffing in disbelief if you dare to close the door while you shower. it’s not controlling to have the need to always know where you are. merely a safety precaution. but you weren’t born yesterday and you notice things maybe just as well as he does. how dex somehow always used to end up in a place where you were, whether it was downtown or godforsaken bar in hell’s kitchen. even before you started seeing each other, frankly this description of an early stage of your relationship would cause distress to dex. you were not just “seeing each other” — you were already his, even if you didn’t know it. he’d try so hard to win you over — always say the right thing, open the door for you, memorise the quickest route to your apartment in case you need him, have access to your building’s security cameras…

in a grand scheme of things you liked whatever’s wrong with him.