#honeybee

"i'm so glad you're staying over tonight stevie," you say after a fit of laughter, wiping a tear from your eye. you've arrived at your door. "i don't want this night to end."

"aww, me too, sweetheart. and to think earlier you said i was 'being presumptuous' for bringing my duffel bag" he teases, as he takes the key you hand him and lets you in.

"yeah, bold of you to assume i'd want to spend all night looking at this face," you squeeze his cheeks together playfully. "but you would be right." you skip over to your room as steve shakes his head with a laugh.

steve sits on your bed and unpacks your bag for you while you sit down at your vanity and put your hair up, about to remove your makeup. you start absentmindedly humming to yourself as you work the micellar water into your skin.

steve's been uncharacteristically quiet for a while. you find him in the mirror still on the edge of your bed behind you. he's looking at you like no one ever has before. his puppy dog eyes shine as he watches you, transfixed on your movements. a warm smile spreads across his face when he realises you're watching him back. you feel warmth bloom in your chest, as if the pure adoration with which he gazes at you goes straight to your heart.

you get up and cross the small space to reach him. his gaze doesn't falter even as you stand between his legs and drape your arms over his shoulders, and those big eyes look up at you.

"god, i love the way you look at me," you whisper, as you lean down and kiss him. steve plants his hands on your hips and gently squeezes the soft skin, before pulling away.

"alright. you get ready for bed, baby. let me know when you're done," he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before getting up and heading for the living room.

"what a gentleman," you chuckle. you press one more kiss to his cheek before he closes the door.

you try not to delay in putting on your favourite pyjamas, and soon call out to steve.

"stevie, i'm done. you can come in now." you call, as you take your throw blanket off your bed.

"hope you didn't rush on my account," he says, stepping in with his duffel bag and setting it on your vanity seat.

"no, not at all. i'll be out here, alright?" you say as you open the patio door at the end of your bedroom and close it behind you, returning the privacy steve gave you.

you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and take a deep breath of the cool, fresh night air. one of your favourite things to do is step out on your balcony and look up at the stars, and tonight they looked particularly lovely.

your eyes adjust to the darkness and you notice why—a shooting star. so far east it's almost obstructed by the other buildings down your street, but brightly making its way across the sky. this was a first, but you decide that after the magical night you've had with your boyfriend, it was only fitting that the sky also bask in it.

you close your eyes and make a wish: i hope i never see what your face looks like going.

right then you then hear the patio door open, his gentle footfalls coming up behind you. you feel his arms around your waist holding you close to him, a kiss pressed to your forehead, and you turn to look up at him. even the sight of a shooting star cannot compare to the man in front of you. steve's face is tired from the day out, but relaxed. his hair seems to fall perfectly, as it always does. once again, his eyes drag over your face, taking in your features under the pale moonlight.

you reach up to gently run your fingers along his face. he instinctively leans into your touch, and his eyes close as he gets lost in the feeling. time seems to stand still. you run your fingertips, with a feather light touch, over his temples, his cheeks, down his nose, ever so slowly down his jaw, and finally you reach his lips. his eyes blink open at the sensation, looking down at your lips. you close the gap and press your lips to his.

he kisses you slowly, gently, barely moving his lips against yours, simply taking in the feeling of his lips pressed against yours. you sink into his arms a little more, inhaling his scent which envelops you. feeling the warmth of his arms around you, his steady breath fanning your face contrasting against the cool night air.

the kiss is not rushed. it's not even deep. it's the opposite—unhurried, dreamlike, and filled with utter bliss. steve hums contentedly into the kiss, as you move your hands to cradle his head.

you realise you need air in your lungs and reluctantly pull back a few centimeters. you open your eyes and the sight is nothing short of art. his pupils blown out so much you can barely see the hazel surrounding them. to your surprise, his cheeks have a warm red wash to them, something that doesn't happen often with steve. and that gaze is the exact same one from earlier.

in this moment, although no words are exchanged, in the silence of the night, looking into your boyfriend's eyes, you understand.

you could spend your whole life knowing the perfect face in front of you.