caleb x gn!reader, pre-relationship fluff, short but soooo cheesy and self indulgent please forgive me, they are both pathetic Yearners. wc: 538.
Bright summer sunshine beats down, dissipating softly through the leaves of the large camphor tree currently providing shelter from its harsh rays.
You’re content, lying next to him in the soft, lush grass. The sound of his voice mingles with the chirping of birds above you, carried by the gentle breeze, mellow and full of fondness. You lost track of how long you had been here together, enjoying the day, discussing one nonsensical topic after another. Neither of you had any place in particular to be, so it didn’t really matter.
The smell of dirt and his appealing cologne waft through the air, easing your tension and lulling your senses. Maybe that’s why you’re talking aimlessly at the moment, more free with your words than usual.
He had plucked a nearby purple flower, handed it to you with a lopsided grin, said something about it being your favorite color. Maybe that’s why you corrected him, because you’re too relaxed—or losing your mind.
“Actually, it’s more like your eyes.”
You start feeling a little self-conscious just then, like you said something too vulnerable. Something that could be read into. Suddenly, you’re extremely interested in the shape of the clouds far up in the sky, away from him.
“My favorite color… it’s basically the same shade as your eyes.”
Every second that it takes for him to respond becomes more and more embarrassing, and you begin to wish you had never said any of this.
“Wow, are you trying to flirt with me?”
A sound of protest bursts from your chest, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle, before you muster as casual a tone as possible to mask the slight tremble in your voice, “Please, you wish.”
It's odd, but he grows quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Very quickly, he shakes himself out of it—literally shakes his head, as if trying to rattle whatever it was right out of his skull.
Finally, exaggeratedly, he gasps, “Oh, I’m wounded! I’ll never recover from this.” He reaches over, arm falling over your face dramatically like he’s lost control of his limbs.
“Hey!” You shove his arm away, attempting to be irritated with him, but end up deteriorating into giggles immediately.
He smiles with you, watching you while you're distracted. He hasn't confessed yet that he loves the sound of your laugh, the way your cheeks puff up and your eyes crinkle. He wants to be the reason for it always.
Once the laughter subsides, there are a few moments of comfortable silence between you before you ask, “What’s your favorite color then? It's weird, but I don't think I know.”
“I like flying. It's the color of the sky.”
You nod slowly, as if expecting a different explanation, but you accept that one anyway.
He wouldn’t tell you his true answer: that he doesn’t really have a single favorite color because he likes them all for one reason or another. That every color is his favorite because they remind him of you in some way. And that everything in his life ultimately circles back to you somehow.
a/n: surpriseee ! happy birthday gege ily <3
