little things ethan & i do to show our love to each other (will be updated as & when).
him braiding my hair. slipping in wildflowers in the spaces between the twists. the sheer intimacy & simplicity of it all, each weave done with such care & love.
joint at the hip, 24/7. as we all know by now, ethan just cannot keep his hands off of me at any point in time. he has to be holding my hand, or resting his chin on my head, or hugging me from behind while i do something else. the boy just clings. & i love it.
me learning his curly hair routine. stemming from curiosity, i once asked him if he could show me what he puts to maintain his curls. & since then, it’s become a simple little routine, just us two chit-chatting while we work on his curls together.
him being my muse. as an artist, i did start off sketching him every few pages in my sketchbook. i never mentioned it to him until he asked to take a look at my sketches & found several of him—front profile, side profile, ¾, close-ups of his eyes, his freckled nose, his cupid bow lips. was i downright embarrassed? yes. did he cherish every single sketch, then & after? definitely.
sharing my earbuds with him. i’m a music lover, hoarding about a hundred playlists. music’s always been a huge part of my life—helped me escape from reality. so, yeah, it’s almost sacred when i share my playlists with him. on the subway, on a bench in central park, at a café near campus, wherever.
speaking of playlists—making a playlist for him. another addition to my collection of curated music, but this one meant more to me than the sum of the others. every time a song even remotely reminds me off him, into the playlist it goes.
him letting me drag him around / physical affection. my fingers in his belt loop, pulling him along with me like a puppy. (he’s exactly where he wants to be.) hand grabbing his & leading him through a crowd. tugging at the hem of his shirt to get his attention. moving him to the side with my hands on his waist.
him making sure i hydrate. ever since he learnt i used to have a kidney stone, he ensures i drink enough water daily. it’s always “have you drunk water yet?” responded with complaining grumbles & begrudgingly drinking from my waterbottle. but of course, i appreciate it more than he thinks.
him sharing his comic books with me. i pretty much learnt all the marvel lore from his ramblings. it’s just so, so fascinating to watch him speak about things he really likes.
him cooking & bringing me food. after The Kitchen Incident™, our friend group knows not to put me anywhere near a stove. that meant that ethan’s the one cooking & bringing me food for lunch, especially bringing my favourites between my most difficult classes. he delicately ensures that the plating is perfect—nothing less than that for me.
leaving little notes in each other’s pockets before our classes start. just a little surprise whenever we go rummaging through them. sometimes random stuff, sometimes a pick-me-up, a cheesy joke, a sweet message.
letting our stares linger. we’re both guilty of gazing at the other when we think they’re not looking. admiring every feature, every piece of reflected light on the planes of our faces. the beauty marks scattered across his face (places i kissed in past lives & countless realities, i’m certain). the depth of expression in my eyes. the lick of an unruly curl over his forehead. the faint dimple in my chin when i smile a specific way. the way his lashes curl so effortlessly. the way i scrunch my nose.
organizing his bookshelf alphabetically while he organizes my desk. we fill in the gaps the other prefers not to, because what’s love if not molding together?
y’all know that “bare minimum vs princess treatment” trend? yeah, no, it’s all bare minimum. we love each other to bits.
— last upd. nov 4, ‘25. title is from velvet ring by big thief.
