#knoxious

"I'm sorry, baby," you cooed softly, "must've been good for you to avoid it, if not then you could've gotten something worse by getting in there."

The scent of toffee danced along the air and you couldn't deny your happiness even after knowing your husband got rejected — no, redirected — from his job application. He was bummed, you knew that. After all, it's most important for him to become your rock in every sense of the word.

"I did everything I could, though," he argued weakly. You grasped his arm tighter.

"I know you did."

Knox kissed the top of your head, sniffing your scent. He closed his eyes. You two stopped in your tracks. Your arms enclosed around his middle, face in his chest. He combed his long fingers through your hair, waiting a moment. Snow fell on your back and he swept it off.

You gazed up at him with a sweet smile and he melted. He scrunched his face before peppering kisses on your face. You squealed away,

"No! No, come on."

You pulled him to one of the cafes, your husband being content as he got dragged away. Knox couldn't keep his hands off of you, holding you, shielding you. He didn't know from what. The bell dinged as you two stumbled in.

"Baby, what?" he chuckled, dreamy eyes against your shadow.

"I'll treat you," you shrugged, observing the choice of pastries inside the glass. Warm, yellow light kept the pastries fresh, the blackboard behind the counter showing customers an array of warm drinks they could choose from.

He groaned, snatching your wallet from your hands.

"Hey!" you complained.

"That would make it worse," he chided, his eyes signaling for you to 'be good, listen to me.' You couldn't disobey, merely huffing in protest, lips falling into a pout. Knox kissed your cheek.

"I want you to eat," you argued.

"Yes, and I'll buy it for us," he said, casual as ever. You whined, pressing further against him. He stood undeterred.

You rubbed his arm, hidden under his thick felt coat. He let you, his hands shoved inside his pockets as he ordered for both of you to the clerk. Knox rubbed your back to reassure you.

You'll never get used to his royalty. The funny thing is, you didn't think you'd ever want to.

your man tbf.

dedicated to:

"I missed you," Knox confessed through a pout he didn't intend to have, sighing, "I wish we could be closer."

"Me too, baby," you comforted, your tone akin to caressing his hair, "it's alright. We'll get our time."

"But when?" he insisted, ever so petulant. His line rustled as he flipped onto his back, propping his head on the pillows. Knox's brown hair was a mess on top of his head, face exhausted from the exertion of calculus and other lessons he couldn't want more to get away from. It was a blessing he already got to his sleep clothes; a pair of plaid pajama pants and a nice-fitting sweater above.

"Is my baby impatient?" you teased, "I can sense that you're pouting, you know."

"Can't help it," he broke into a boyish grin, "miss you so much. Just wanna hang out with you. Buy you books, make you happy."

Knox reached back to his shelves, correcting the position of one of his medals. It was dusted, not wiped as much as it needed to be. You didn't care though — always putting it on him, calling him your king when you came over to his house for the first time during semester break.

Now that it's nearly exam week, Knox's patience is thrown off the balance by his longing to just be with his girlfriend for an amount of time he can't yet control or decide. Even then, you always had a way of soothing his ache,

"But we are together now," you whispered, just wanting your big baby to calm down, though you always found him ever so sweet (and admirably pathetic).

"It's not the same," he whined, and you nearly laugh at the image of your six-foot jock sprawled on his bed, shamelessly being like this.

"Wanna touch you, wanna love you right. I want to buy you flowers and see your face when I give it to you," he sighed, "you always smile so nice. It's so pretty."

You rolled your eyes, laughing in disbelief, "Oh, you are one stubborn young man, Mister Overstreet. How could I ever put up with you when we marry?"

"You won't have to," he persisted, sitting up straight, "'cause I'll be on my best behavior when I make you my wife. My wife. You'll greet me back home when I'm tired from my hoity-toity job, and we'll have our children, and they'll look like you, and we'll never have to spend any other day in our lives separated from each other! Isn't that the best, baby?"

You could've answered with something sweet, complicated, or thorough; matching his enthusiasm for a dream you've both conjured since being in each other's lives. Instead, you sigh in gratitude,

"I love you, Knoxie."

Those words from you, and the nickname, incited enough adrenaline rushing in him to launch his body to Mars. Knox saw the view outside, the moon crescendoing into sight and the owls hooted in harmony.

"I love you too, honey," he uttered in pleasant disbelief, his gentle phrase like a rub of his broad palm up and down your back, "wanna go to sleep now?"

"Yeah," you gave a small yawn, "yea, I do."

He shut off his light, settling into bed. One beat, then two.

"Sweetheart?" he mumbled, cheek smushed to the pillows. You giggled, he was adorable.

"Mmhm?"

"Would you dream of me tonight?"

"Every night, I do."

One beat, then two. The line rustled as Knox shifted position,

"Honey?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Don't turn off the phone, okay."

Your heart squeezed at his hoarse tone, exploding into an array of pink butterflies and heart-shaped cotton candy.

"I won't."

i gave him a redemption arc ladies (not really, i just erased his whole major negative plot point but it's fineeeeeee) (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)