#magswrites

You run your hands down the front of your dress, smiling at your mother as she passes by you to step into the carriage. You had kept your return a secret from all your English pen pals, including Eloise, only Lady Violet knowing about your eventual reveal at the ball tonight. You couldn’t wait to see your old friends’ reactions!

The entire ride to the Birdgerton estate was spent fixing your hair and perfecting your outfit. You had been careful to change into the perfect dress before heading for the mansion, but you were still fussing over it. Sure, you were 5 and 20 now, but the thought of seeing… You shake your head, forcing your hands to still. You were not going to focus on that. On him. You were an adult now.

The carriage pulls to a stop in front of the beautiful home, and you cannot hide your excitement. The Bridgertons were seconds away!

You ascend the steps, arm in arm with your mother, before stopping at the height of the stairs and the entrance to the house. The dancing hall is just as extravagant as you remembered. As you survey the various guests, waiting to be announced, you take time to note the faces you recognize. There was Daphne, her husband with her, and their children around them. There were Colin and Penelope, looking just as in love as you knew they had been when you were young. Your smile widens when your gaze lands on Eliose, hanging off the arm of… You look away for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking back. You could look at him. It had been a decade! You would handle looking at Benedict Bridgerton. You focus your gaze on him and allow your heart to settle. You could do this. 

But, oh, how handsome he has grown! His eyes twinkle the way they had all those years ago as he laughs at something his sister says, and he holds himself with a sense of self he seems to have grown into over the decade you hadn’t seen him. He looks wonderful, the Bridgerton Blue he’s wearing making his eyes almost glow as they meet yours… wait. He’s looking at you! His jaw is slack, and he has frozen midstep the same way you have at the realization. 

He mouths your name at the same time the servant next to you announces it to the room. Your mother tugs on your arm gently, guiding you down the steps, and the spell is broken, allowing you to look away at last to appreciate the shocked faces of your friends. You straighten to your full height and begin to descend. 

When you reach the bottom, Penelope and Colin get to you first. She wraps you in a hug immediately, and you smile at Colin’s nod over her shoulder. Anthony and his new wife are thrilled to see you as well. Daphne finds you next, giving you another hug before introducing you to her family. You curtsey deeply, but the Duke waves a hand. 

“There is no need for that. From what I’ve heard, you’re an old friend!”

“Indeed!” Eloise’s voice pipes up from behind him as she all but shoves him away to get to you. The hug she gives is as tight as it is enthusiastic, and you wheeze out a laugh as you hug her back. She leans back with her hands on your shoulders as she eyes you up and down. 

“Oh, my dearest friend! You forgot to mention how tall you’ve gotten in your letters! You’re just beautiful. Benedict, isn’t she beautiful?” With a wink at your mortified face, she stands to the side. He’s standing right behind her, because of course he is, and you make eye contact again. 

You’re expecting a polite nod in response to Eloise’s meddling, maybe even a smile, but the smouldering once-over Benedict gives you steals your breath. 

“Yes. Yes, she is.”

His voice is deeper than you remember, although the quiet confidence you fell for all those years ago remains unchanged. You’re proud of your ability to stand your ground, voice remaining steady as you say, “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

You think (you hope) that that will be that, the ordeal of seeing your decades-old crush survived, but Benedict seems determined to prove you wrong tonight. He extends a hand to you when you start turning away, murmuring a quiet, “May I have the pleasure of a dance?” Your eyes meet his again in shock, and he hastily adds, “In honor of your return, of course.”

You meet what you assume is a challenge with as much confidence as you can muster, placing your gloved hand in his and letting him pull you away. You have an inkling he is teasing you, the same way he had when you were young, about your ill-returned confession. Despite your hurt at his enjoyment of your embarrassment, you cannot deny how wonderful it feels for his arm to wrap around your back and your hand to be in his. You startle when he pulls you closer than strictly necessary, but you manage not to show it on your face. This close, you note that you and Benedict are at eye-level, something he seems to notice simultaneously. 

He smiles at you, leaning forward to whisper, “You truly have grown taller, Little Lark.” Your old nickname was something you should have been expecting, but it tips the scales in your embarrassment’s favor, causing you to break eye contact. He chuckles teasingly, a sound you are positive you will never forget, before spinning you under his arm to pull you even closer than before. 

He ducks his head, blue eyes sparkling again as they meet yours. “Come now, Little Lark! Where did all of that courage go?” Suddenly, you’re aware of the eyes on you, the whispers, and how much of a fool you were making of yourself. You had been here for all of 10 minutes, and you had already let him sweep you away! You needed to get a hold of yourself. 

You frown, and Benedict’s smile drops in turn, squeezing your hand gently where it rests in his. “Did I say something wrong?”

The dance, thankfully, ends then, and you use it as an opportunity to get away. You step back quickly, offering a curtsey and a quiet, “thank you for the dance, Mr. Bridgerton,” before turning and leaving, walking as briskly as societally allowed to where you knew the balcony was. You all but throw open the doors to the outside air and grasp the balcony railing with both hands, taking a gasping breath and letting the cool night wash over you. 

“You still haven’t gotten over him, have you, 'Little Lark'?” a voice you had almost forgotten sneers behind you, and you hang your head in disappointment. While you had missed many things about England, Cressida Cowper was not one of them. You remembered just who it was who had found you when you had fled your confession all those years ago, still recalling the awful words she’d said to you despite being 3 years your senior. It seemed she had not changed, despite all the growing up everyone around her seemed to do. Guessing you have to give her an answer, you turn around.

“Charming as ever, Miss Cowper. It truly astounds me that you are not married yet.” Sarcasm drips from every syllable, and at your clear disdain, her smile disappears. 

“He will never marry you. You know that, right? Everyone in the Ton knows he refuses to wed, and that show out there was either pity or a ploy to get under your skirts.” Your eyes begin to sting, but you stand your ground even as she sneers, “You’re in love with a rake, darling. It’s about time you realize it.”

You stalk past her without a word, so focused on getting away from her sickening laugh that you don’t realize Benedict has just opened the door to the terrace. You all but run into him, his warm hands holding your arms when you stumble. He definitely notices the tears in your eyes, but you don’t give him the time to comment on them, brushing past him quickly. 

You all but run to your mother, pulling her to the side to ask her to leave. At first, she disagrees, but one look at your face is enough for her to acquiesce. 

The ride to your new home is silent, and your sleep is fitful when you get there. You only hope Benedict takes the hint to stay away. 

He doesn’t. It takes all of two days for you to get a caller, and although you expect it to be Eloise, it is Benedict who walks through the door to your parlor instead. Your mother, who, bless her, has wanted nothing more than for you to be married for nearly a decade, leaves you alone the second she sees him. 

The first few seconds are awkward, neither of you saying anything. After counting to five, you look up from your needlepoint to acknowledge him. You are shocked by what you see. 

Benedict is a wreck. His hair is a mess, his shirt is untucked, and his hands cannot seem to be still. You make eye contact, and your eyebrows raise when you see the beginnings of a blush creeping up his neck. 

You open your mouth to speak, to put him out of his misery somehow, but he beats you to it. 

“I cannot begin to express how sorry I am about the other night,” he says, taking a step forward, seemingly in distress. 

You huff an awkward laugh. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean. Miss Cowper-”

“Was wrong.” Benedict interrupts. He kneels before you and takes your hands in his, looking up at you earnestly. “She was wrong.”

You tilt your head, bewildered. “Whether or not you decide to marry has nothing to do with me-”

Benedict interrupts again, shaking his head. “It has everything to do with you, Little Lark.” He sighs, then, and looks away before muttering, “You… may have had two correspondents when you wrote to my sister for all of these years.”

When you catch on, your face flushes. “You read my letters?!”

You go to stand, but Benedict stops you with his palms on your bent knees. Even through your dress fabric, they seem to burn, and the familiarity of it stuns you into stillness. 

“I know! I know they were not meant for my eyes,” said eyes don’t leave yours for a moment, “but after finding the first, I couldn’t help myself. Your thoughts, your heart, your mind… were enchanting.” One of his hands rises to meet your cheek, the other moving to pull your hand to rest against his chest over his heart. 

“My soul has been yours since I read the first paragraph, and I have only fallen harder since. I did vow not to marry, but only because I knew the only woman I could possibly want lived an ocean away from me.”

You shake your head, as if trying to wake yourself from a dream. 

“Why didn’t you write?” 

Benedict’s blush rises up his neck into his cheeks. 

“Would you believe me if I said I was shy?”

You laugh, and his whole face brightens as he lets you go to stand before you.

“Will you allow me to court you, Little Lark? Let you find if my mind is as enticing as yours?” 

You take his offered hand and stand, smiling at him brightly.

You had accepted your hopelessness fairly early on; you knew there was no point in denying it. Doing something about it, however, was a different story altogether. Every time you thought you had gained enough courage, Steve would wink at you, or lean just close enough on the library front desk for you to catch a whiff of his cologne, or smile that beaming smile of his… and you would lose your nerve. Your only hope was if he asked you out, although you knew that was an impossibility. If Steve liked you, he would have said something already; you were sure of it. So, you languished in love unrequited, just short of content with shared laughter and platonic interactions. Everything changed, however, when you finally met Eddie. 

It was Steve’s idea to go see Eddie’s show. He sported a strange blush as he asked you to go with him, and seemed unusually nervous. You agreed readily, though, and his sigh of relief was so adorable you couldn’t help but look away. There weren’t many places for a band as popular as the Corroded Coffin could play in Hawkins, Steve explained, so they set up at the old quarry outside town limits. You asked what kind of music Eddie played, and Steve smiled at you. 

“If darkness were a sound, Eddie’s music would be it.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but figured your typical soft sweaters and blue jeans wouldn’t cut it. You went to the back recesses of your closet to find the clothes from your teenage years. The black, ripped jeans you found were short on you, as every pair was if you didn’t get them tailored, so you rolled up the hem so that it looked intentional. You were just pulling on your old combat boots from high school when you heard Steve’s car pull up to your house. You paused in front of the mirror to check how you looked, and you almost couldn’t recognize yourself. Your eyeliner was heavier than you had drawn it in years, and the black leather jacket you sported was a far cry from what you usually wore. You wondered, you hoped, that Steve would notice you in this, if he hadn’t noticed you in anything else. 

You step out of the house and try to stop your hands from shaking as you lock your door. Steve always got out of the car when he came to pick you up so that he could hold the door open for you. His gentlemanly nature was partially what had drawn you to him. He’s leaning against his car, as he always does, as he waits for you to come out, but when his eyes land on you, he straightens up immediately. You could almost feel his gaze as it travels from your boots up to your eyes. When you make eye contact, he, in rare form, is the one to look away first, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Immediately, you’re flustered.

“Sorry, this is too much, isn’t it? I’ll go change-”

“No!” Steve interrupts you and launches forward to place a hand on the door behind you to keep it closed. 

“No, you look…” You make eye contact again, and this time Steve holds your gaze. “You look amazing.” 

You glance down immediately and laugh, stooping to get under his arm and head towards his car. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

He paused behind you for just a second before following you over, opening the passenger door for you. When you’re situated, he heads over to the other side and gets in, starting the drive towards the quarry. The ride is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. That was another thing you appreciated about Steve: his ability to sit in silence without worry. You arrive quickly, and you can hear the noise of a large crowd long before you see them. When you go to get out after Steve parks, he grabs your hand to get your attention. When you turn to him, his face is serious. 

“Stay near me, okay? I don’t want to lose you.” You nod and smile. You don’t want to lose him in the crowd either; that sounded terrifying. 

While you had been unsure when Steve had described the type of music Eddie played, you have to admit that Eddie’s concert is so much fun. It takes you back to your high school years of moshing and rocking. You jump up and down with the people around you and bang your head to the music, feeling the beat despite not knowing the words. The blast from the past is exhilarating, and having Eddie, or who you assumed was Eddie, based on the crowd screaming his name, make direct eye contact and point at you during one of the songs definitely doesn’t hurt. You don’t even notice how out of place Steve seems, and how put out he is after noticing Eddie’s attention on you. You pull on his sleeve after the concert is over and beg him to try to get you backstage to tell them how great they did. Steve is initially hesitant, but he looks at you as you pout for all of two seconds before caving. 

He, of course, has permanent VIP passes due to being an old friend, and you’re let into the wings of the temporary stage with no trouble. The band is breaking down everything, and you enjoy the feeling of seeing something secret. You’re so enraptured that you don’t notice when Steve walks away to see how to help or when someone else joins you until you hear a deep voice to your left. 

“It’s killer, isn’t it?”

You turn in surprise, and there’s the man of the hour. He’s even more striking up close, you realize, his eyes sharpened by the liner, his hair unruly and wild. He grins at you, and you’re struck with the feeling of “getting it.” The screaming women, the crying fans, the roaring crowd… this guy inspired fanaticism, and his entire focus was on you. He juts out a hand glittering with rings, and when you take it, he places a kiss on the back of your hand, looking up through his lashes at you. 

“Eddie Munson, Dollface. And you are..?”

You give your name, and he smiles just a bit wider. He lets go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulders, guiding you over to where the roadies are putting the instruments away.

“You seemed lost, Doll. First time backstage?”

Your shoulders shake in a laugh, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“Not my first time, but it has definitely been a while. What gave me away?”

He smiles and shrugs. 

“You’ve just got this doe-eyed, damsel look about you, Doll. Couldn’t help but want to be the one to save.”

At that, you finally feel a bit of the fluster you usually feel with Steve and glance away. Eddie laughs warmly. 

“Say, we’re hanging out here for a few weeks, really getting use out of our hometown. Could I take you out sometime Dollface?” You’re honored that he asked, and very flattered that he seems so taken with you, but you hesitate, Steve’s face in your head. At your silence, Eddie fills in the blanks for himself. 

“Someone else already has your heart, don’t they?”

You nod, mouth opening to apologize, but Eddie just laughs again. 

“No sweat, Dollface. I should have guessed someone as cute as you had already been swooped up.” 

Just then, Steve reappears. He looks upset, angry to the point of explosion as he looks between the two of you. What’s wrong with him?

“Am I interrupting something?”

Eddie looks as confused as you are until something clicks in his head. He raises his hands in surrender and takes a few steps back, although he’s still grinning unflinchingly and even winks at you as he says,

“Sorry! I should have known you were Steve’s librarian. You’re just as pretty as he said you were.” He winks at you again before turning and sauntering off, throwing a teasing, “Nice to see ya, Steve!” as he goes.

You feel your face flush immediately, and when you turn to Steve, he seems similarly flustered, although less angry now. He leads you back to his car silently, and the ride home is quiet as well, while being much more tense than before. You can’t look at Steve the whole time, just hearing Eddie’s voice calling you “Steve’s” over and over and over again. Steve had mentioned you to him, that much was certain, but in what context? Did he really call you his, or was Eddie just teasing?

Steve drops you off at your house with only a “see you Monday” before peeling off down the street. The entire rest of the weekend is spent mulling over what Eddie had said, as well as Steve’s reaction. He hadn’t denied it, you realized with a smile. Eddie had called you “Steve’s,” and Steve hadn’t denied it.

When you walk into school that Monday, you aren’t sure how, or even if, you should broach the topic with Steve. What if Steve had just been too embarrassed to say anything, or too polite to correct Eddie? In the few moments you had known him, you already knew Eddie liked to stir up trouble. What if he was just teasing to rile Steve up?

You’re still contemplating what to do as you sit at your desk, and are so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t even notice Steve walk into the library. You stand and begin putting returned books away on autopilot when a hand on yours both stops you and startles you. You look up, and there’s Steve. He has a worried look on his face, and you note as his hand leaves yours that his is a bit clammy.

 He tilts his head as he looks at you and asks, “You okay? I called your name multiple times.”

You smile reassuringly, shaking your head a bit. 

“I’m good! Sorry, Steve, I was just thinking.”

He takes some books from the cart next to you and begins helping you put them away as he asks, “What about?”

You aren’t sure what it is. Maybe the confidence boost of having a literal rockstar flirt with you, or the exhaustion of waiting, or the sound of Eddie calling you “Steve’s Librarian” being repeated in your head, but something gives you the courage to look at Steve in the eye and say, “You.”

Steve blinks hard before a heavy blush begins creeping up his neck. He lifts his hat to run a hand through his hair, glancing away before settling his gaze back on you. 

“Oh! Uh. Really? Well-”

He blinks again, and as quickly as you found it, you lose your courage again. You turn your back to him and restart putting the books away, this time quicker, unable to meet his eyes anymore. As if realizing what he had done, as well as how it could be interpreted, Steve stutters out of his shock to reach for you, gently turning you back around to face him. You keep your head down, embarrassed, and Steve tuts, grasping your chin gently between his fingers and thumb and tilting your head up so he can meet your eyes. 

His voice is gentle and hushed as he says, “Hey! Hey, don’t get shy on me now, Honey. What did you mean by that?”

At the nickname, you shake off some embarrassment and notice how Steve is looking at you. It isn’t with pity, as you would have guessed, but with sheer joy, with a dash of surprise mixed in. Steve is smiling at you as if you had suddenly revealed you held the keys to his happiness in front of him and were about to hand them over. Still, you can’t seem to find the words. 

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, using your silence to continue. 

“I think about you too, you know.”

At this, you try to glance away, but he tilts his head to the side to keep eye contact, wanting to make sure you hear him. 

“All the time. I think about how pretty you are when you’re flustered,” he uses the hand on your arm to start running up and down the sleeve of your sweater. 

“I think about how sweet you are with the kids. I think about how kind you are when a coworker needs help finding a book.” He leans in just a bit, just enough for you to feel his breath against your mouth. 

“I thought about how gorgeous you were all dressed up on Friday night, all weekend.” He leans ever so slightly closer. 

“And, right now, I’m thinking about how I can’t stand waiting much longer to ask you out. Waiting to kiss you.”

Your breaths are getting shallower with his every word, but you can’t find it in yourself to look away. His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, as if he’s proud of himself for getting you so worked up. They glance down at your mouth before meeting your eyes again.

“Can I, Honey? Can I kiss you?”

You can only nod, but that isn’t enough for Steve. He leans back again, giving you a little space to breathe before murmuring, “Words, please.”

As if you were waiting to be given permission, your lips are suddenly unsealed. 

“Yes, Steve. Yes, you can-”

He surges forward immediately, the hand on your arms wrapping around to your back to pull you up against him. You hum happily into the kiss, and you hear his answering groan as he leans forward, the hand on your chin going up to stabilize you both against the bookshelves. It isn’t until you hear the door to the library open that you part, and even then, Steve doesn’t let you get far. 

The hand on your back runs up and down your spine, keeping you close against him even as you gently push at his shoulders. You’re out of view of the door, thank goodness, but you know whoever just entered would find you if you didn’t move soon. Steve doesn’t seem to care, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clothed shoulder. You’re so flustered you feel lightheaded, and when you give a harder shove, Steve lets you go with a quiet laugh. 

He steps back to put a hand out between you and smiles when you look at him in question. 

“Come on, Honey. Now that I have you, I’m not letting another Eddie debacle happen ever again. Everybody in the world is gonna know you’re mine.”

At that, you get flustered all over again, but you take his hand regardless, smiling at him as you turn the corner towards the front desk. You sit down to help the student in front of you, who, you note, has taken in the hand holding with greedy eyes. 

You begin to say, “How can I help you?” but stop midsentence when Steve follows you behind the counter to press a kiss to your head before heading for the door. The student gawks as you look at him incredulously, but Steve just laughs, winking at you as he walks out the door. 

This desire, this longing, was so new to him. He didn't understand; why did he have this need to be around you constantly? You made him feel things he had never felt before. His need to be close to you reached new heights every day, and the day the Guardians visited Terra for the first time was no different.

 While it was nice to see Peter Quill again, learning about where you came from was the only thing Adam could focus on. To see what you first called home was magnificent. Adam wanted to know anything and everything you were willing to tell him about where you grew up, and as you gave him a tour of your childhood home, he was struck by two things. 

The first was how beautiful everything on Terra seemed to be. It only made sense, he supposed, that someone as beautiful as you would come from somewhere as beautiful as this. The second, and slightly more puzzling thing was how at home he felt, despite being on a planet he had never visited before. This he solved by simply remembering who he was with. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling he would feel at home anywhere as long as you were there.

After you showed him everything you could think of, Adam decided it was his turn to show you his "world" - what he considered his first home.

It wasn't hard to convince you to allow him to take you somewhere you had never been, and Adam's heart swelled at your trust in him. When you had fully prepared yourself to go somewhere without oxygen, you turned to look at him expectantly. He had originally planned to drive one of their smaller ships to where he wanted to take you, but that urge to be close to you rose up again. 

He scooped you up into his arms instead, and shot up towards the atmosphere, holding you close with one arm under your legs and the other around your back. At first he was worried you would be mad at him, but you responded exactly the way he wanted you to: by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and hiding your face against his shoulder.

Adam hadn't even known it was possible for him to shiver, but when he felt your body shake against his as you let out a surprised and exhilarated laugh, he relished in the tremors it causes.

He didn't know what you were expecting as he flew you both towards the first place he had felt peace. It wasn't Sovereign, but he had a feeling that wouldn't surprise you. He waited with baited breath to see your reaction after whispering to you that you had reached your destination.

If you were surprised, you didn't show it. All Adam saw as he watched you take in the mesmerizing stars, planets, and moons he had brought you to see was pure, unadulterated awe. It seemed as if it was all you could do just to whisper, "it's beautiful." Adam murmured his agreement, though his eyes never once left your face.

He wondered if you felt the things he was feeling, what he always felt when he was around you. He wasn't sure how to ask; he didn't even know if he should. For a reason he couldn't explain, the thought of confessing his feelings to you made him nervous.

Still, being honest with you had never hurt him before. He had to at least try. When he landed back onto Knowhere soil, he turned to you, having built his courage on the journey back. 

While he had sucked in a breath to start, to attempt to find some way to express himself to you, the air left his lungs the second you turned to look at him. He had chosen to carry you before because it brought you closer to him, but the sheer lack of distance between your faces hadn't hit him until your still awe-filled eyes had come to rest on his golden ones.

 Suddenly, talking was a complete impossibility. Adam was positive you had never looked so radiant, hair tousled from your recently removed helmet and breathing still heavy from the adrenaline of flight. Adam was also positive that if he opened his mouth to speak, something horribly embarrassing would come out.

Luckily, knowingly or not, you saved him from the mortification of speech. You leaned forward to rest your forehead against his, and when Adam noticed the small smirk your mouth made when he gasped at the contact, he found himself unable to look away. 

As quickly as you had stolen his ability to breathe, the sight of your lips completely consumed Adam's thoughts. He tilted his head ever so slightly, and when you leaned back to look up at him, he started to lean forward. He couldn't explain why, but as his gaze roamed your face, briefly meeting your eyes before returning to your mouth, all he could suddenly think about was wanting to…. Wanting to….

You caught on immediately, and raised a gentle hand to rest against his lips, stopping him. At his frustrated huff and furrowed eyebrows, your enticing mouth lifted again at the corners as you ducked down to meet his eyes.

"Adam, are you sure? Do you even know what you're trying to-"

"Starlight, please," his words are muffled against your fingertips, and he watched as the feel of his mouth moving against them visibly flustered you. "I can't explain why but I want… I need to know." He didn't know how to articulate what exactly he needed, but he didn't have to.

When you hesitantly lowered your hand and nodded, Adam wasted no more time, surging forward to press his lips against yours. It was a clumsy kiss at first, but as you slid your hands into his hair to guide him, a single thought, word, feeling seeped deep into his bones. Right. This felt right. More right than anything he had felt in his life.

The longing he had experienced since he met you seemed to finally release him with a sigh of relief, giving way to complete contentment. He smiled against your lips and pulled you closer, delighted by the gasp you gave him in response.

He didn't know how long you let him hold you, pressing kiss after kiss against your lips, trying to figure out exactly what he had to do to hear that little gasp again. It didn't matter. It hadn't been long enough to satisfy him. 

He had wanted to pout when you finally pulled away, but the sight of your dazed eyes and parted, panting lips made up for the loss of what had immediately become the best thing he had ever experienced in his life. He mirrored your earlier action, resting his head against yours and closing his eyes.

"Thank you," his breaths were coming out in short puffs, but he found he didn't mind being out of breath if it was because of this. Because of you. He felt your forehead move against his as you shook your head, letting out a breathless chuckle in response to his gratitude.

"You are… unfairly good at that. You've never done that before?"

Adam shook his head no and smiled cheekily at how airy your voice was.

"Does that mean you'll let me do it some more?" He beamed when you nodded again and pulled you in for more kisses just as fast as the first time. 

When you broke away for a second time, Adam decided he still needed more, wondering what other sounds you would give him if he kept going. He tilted his head to kiss down your jaw and along your throat, and he rejoiced when he was rewarded with more gasps and sighs. You tugged involuntarily at his golden hair when he mouthed at one of your collar bones, and he hummed against your skin in response.

He had memorized the way to his apartment in Knowhere long ago and thanked his previous self for bringing you back so close to it. He carried you through his front door, shutting it behind him with a light kick before settling on his couch. When he realized he couldn't kiss everywhere he wanted to, he decided you needed to be closer and, lifting you up easily, shifted you to straddle his thighs. 

Your breathing had been getting steadily shallower, and at the feeling of his hands grasping at your hips to pull you closer, you couldn't handle any more. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him up to look at you, fighting hard to catch your breath. 

"You can't…. You gotta give a girl a break sometimes. I'm gonna pass out at the rate you're going." Adam just shook his head and leaned in again, unable to resist pressing another kiss to your lips before speaking. His hands slid up from their place on your hips to wrap around to the small of your back as he muttered an apology against your mouth.

"I'm sorry, Starlight, I can't help it," he nudged your chin up with his nose so he could kiss along the soft skin underneath your jaw. "Why haven't we done this before? Why aren't people kissing all the time?"

You breathed out a quiet laugh before explaining.

"Well, it's kind of intimate, you know?" You paused to gasp as he ran his nose down your pulse to mouth at the place where your neck met your shoulder. He smiled when you shivered in response to his encouraging hum to continue.

"It's usually only for between folks with romantic feelings or-" 

Adam stopped abruptly to raise his head and look at you, and he could tell it was taking a lot of your effort to not pull him back to you. If he hadn't been so curious, he would have been left dumbstruck again by your swollen lips and lidded, kiss drunk eyes, but he pressed forward, too interested in the words you had used. 

"'romantic'... I don't recognize that word…"

You shook your head to get out of your daze, trying to get your brain to function enough to explain the concept to Adam.

He didn't know why, but he felt strangely proud that he was the one that had so thoroughly distracted you. Your beautiful mind was muddled because of him. His kisses on your neck as you sat on his lap and his hands touched you- what was happening to him?

He ignored his increasingly possessive thoughts, trying to pay attention as you attempted to find the right words to use.

"It means you want to spend all your time with someone, I guess, but more than just in the way a friend would. You think about them all the time, you find them nice to look at, you want to protect them from things," you paused to check with him, "is this making sense?" 

Adam was nodding before you had finished the question. That was the feeling that had been plaguing him! He tilted his head to the side and watched you for a moment. He knew you were probably expecting more kisses, and while he already felt as iff he was going through withdrawal, he had a question he needed answering first. 

"How do you tell someone about those feelings?" At that you shrugged, fighting to keep your focus while Adam gently ran his hands up and down your back. 

"It depends. If the feelings are small then you should say something like,'I like you'," Adam immediately knew that didn't fit, "if it's all encompassing and groundbreaking, then you would say, 'I love you.'" Ah. That sounded right.

Adam mulled over his next move as he leaned in to plant light kisses on your cheeks and nose in thanks. His heart swelled at your giggle, and he made a decision. Love. Yes.

He leaned back again and did exactly as instructed.

"I love you."

His confession causes you to blink before giving him a sad smile, one Adam immediately wants to replace with something real. 

"No, Adam, just because you like kissing me doesn't mean you-"

"I love you!" He interrupted you to say it again, this time more insistent. At your unconvinced face, his continues, listing every way his feelings for you fit your criteria.

"I have felt a… a pull towards you since I first saw you, and it gets stronger every day," you opened your mouth to argue, but Adam wouldn't have it.

"I want to be close to you all of the time, I can never stop thinking about you, you're the most beautiful thing I have ever had the gift of looking at and I would rather die than see you hurt," he cupped your face in his hands and met your eyes steadily. His tone made no room for argument.

"I love you."

"Adam…" While you still looked skeptical, he could tell his words getting through to you. He tried to go for another tactic. 

"Do you know why I didn't fly us to Sovereign when I told you I was going to show you my world?" When you shake your head no, he continues, "it's because being in space, surrounded by the beauty and tranquility, was the only place I felt at home… until I met you. Now, when I think of home," his golden eyes glow with admiration, begging you to believe what he's telling you, "when I think of home, Starlight, all I see is you. I love you." 

He could tell you were almost convinced, and you tilted your head to the side, eyes roaming his face. Adam figured you were probably trying to gauge if he fully understood the gravity of what he was confessing; you were always careful to only let him commit to something important if he was able to articulate its significance.

His little Starlight wouldn't let him rush into something he didn't understand. The last thing you wanted was to take advantage of him. He loved that about you. He watched you watch him for a while, trying to figure out what to do to prove his understanding, more than willing to indulge your protectiveness.

When he finally landed on a solution, he stood quickly with you still in his arms. Now that he had gotten a taste of you this close to him, he didn't know if he'd ever let you walk again. 

Your surprised squeak was adorable, but it was the heady feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands gripping your thighs that he made a mental note to revisit later. What kind of sounds would you make if he pressed you up again his door? What about the wall...?

Adam shook his head to refocus himself. You would let him do all of that, he was sure of it, if he was only able to convince you that he loved you.

He walked with purpose through his apartment, past his small kitchen, straight into his bedroom. When he sat on the edge of the bed, he made sure you were comfortably seated on him before reaching past you to grab something he had been keeping on his bedside table for months.

He handed it over to you and watched you as you analyzed it, turning it around in your hands. It was a picture frame, and in it was a photo of you, smiling at whoever was behind the camera. You looked as if you were mid laugh, and the kaleidoscope of stars behind you gave you an almost ethereal glow.

Adam tapped a single golden finger against the frame, keeping his eyes on your face. "I have been keeping this by my bed ever since Drax told us about Ovette," you eyes snapped up to his at that, and he continued, "he had said he wished he had kept some kind of photo of her so he could see her face before he fell asleep and after he woke up. He said he wished he had looked at her, really looked at her, for longer, so that her face wouldn't be forgotten as easily." 

He took the photo back gently and returned it to its rightful place on his nightstand before he turned to look back at you.

"When he was talking about how much he missed her, all I could think about was how devastated I would be if I never saw you again. If I forgot what you looked like. I didn't know what to call it, but even back then, I knew if there was someone who I would spend the rest of my life with, it was you." 

Adam reached out and grabbed your hands, placing a kiss against each palm before resting with them in your lap. At first he was alarmed when he saw tears in your eyes, but then he noticed you were smiling, and continued, feeling his own eyes starting to well up too.

"I didn't say it just because I like kissing you, although I can already tell I could do that forever and love every second," you laughed and a tear escaped. Adam brushed it away with a brush of his thumb. "I'm saying it because from the moment I met you, I have longed to know you, where you came from, everything I could, just so I could talk to you better.

I'm saying it because you have become the one place I feel I truly belong." He ran his hands up your arms and shoulders to sink into your hair, bringing you close enough to nuzzle his nose against yours.

"I'm saying it because I have felt it, for months, and now I finally, finally have the words I need to express it. Starlight, with my entire body and soul, I. Love. You."