Half-formed ficlet idea: Gareth and El doing homework together (perhaps on a rainy Saturday morning, just like today). El is struggling and starts to spiral a bit, wishing she could just be “normal” and “not stupid”, and by the time Gareth looks up from whatever he was absorbed in she’s crying while unconsciously scratching at the tattoo on her wrist as if trying to scrape it off. He immediately grabs her hands in his, holding them against his chest, against his heart, not saying a word but simply letting her count each beat while she tries to catch her breath and calm down. He presses the gentlest of little kisses against her wrist. Then he picks up his pen and draws a heart around the tiny 011, and writes more numbers above it: 143. What does that mean, she asks him, and he answers, it means I love you. It’s the number of letters in each word. Numbers don’t always have to be a bad thing.
