#ilmf

I like calling my friend doll, flower, baby, darling, sweetheart, cutesie versions of their names etc.

I like showing affection like that and I like that they respond with nicknames as well, like calling me Babs or my love.

I like hugging them and cuddling with them. Showing affection with touches.

I like suddenly declaring my love for them, saying how much I miss them even if we talked only 2hrs before.

Casually

"Stop." Lando hisses, turning his head away, but it's overshadowed by giggling.

He zooms in more, laughing softly as Lando presses his jaw back into the crook of his elbow, peering over his arm and Daniel's breath catches in his chest when long eyelashes flutter as warm eyes crinkle at the edges.

He keeps it fully zoomed, capturing the straight slope of Lando's nose, the freckles either side, the steep curl of his eyelashes and the brightness in his eyes.

God he loves Lando's eyes, wishes he'd caught more of them before they flick away again, Lando giggling, "Stop it."

He presses play again. He's lost count how many times he's watched the clip that's barely thirty seconds, but he must be in the thousands by now. It's one of the few pieces of Lando left that is solely his.

He'd posted the video without sound, a post captioned with kisses in French, slotted neatly amongst several other photos, just a tease. Here it's different.

The thirty seconds of Lando he never shared, where Daniel gets the giggles and the feigned whining and Lando curling shyly away from the camera. He gets all that, for him, selfishly, in the home that they never got to share. The home that should've been theirs but he never got the chance to ask. He never had the chance to fold Lando into his arms, out on the patio watching the setting sun and the breeze coming through to chill them both, kissing his curls and whispering, "Stay. Move in with me. Stay forever."

this one is all her fault btw

Dog-eared, edges rolling, faded by time and the gentle touch of fingertips that ache with melancholic longing. The ink on the back catches his eye first, the image face down, the words pale blue now, smudged and blurring to fill the spaces where he’d memorised the little loops in the cursive script it had been written in.

His fingers tremble as he pinches an edge carefully, lifting it out of its nest and flipping it over.

The beaming grin that gazes back at him brings immediate tears to his eyes.

Lando.

He looks away as he blinks, lets the tears roll down his cheeks and chin and neck, tickling as they reach the dip between his collarbones, before he looks back at the picture. The last thing he wants is to stain, to tarnish or ruin the one physical picture that exists of that moment. And it is that moment. It can never happen again, it’s impossible for it to happen again.

He drops the picture into his lap, watches it flutter slightly as it falls to rest so that he can scrub his hands over his face. His eyes still sting, still burn, worse now that he's actively trying to hold back, but it's okay. He knows it won't take long for him to cry in earnest. It never does, not when it comes to this.

Volume Three of I Love My Friends is now out!! 39+2 pages of art, writings, photos, and all sorts of other cool stuff <3