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You have no idea how hard you hit me—emotionally, not physically… except when your pink hair blinds me in the sun, you adorable neon menace. Your hair literally looks like cotton candy and chaos had a baby, and honestly? I’d still follow you anywhere like a lovesick idiot. And don’t even get me started on your belly. Every time I hug you and it squishes against me, my brain just goes, ‘Ah yes. Safety. Warmth. Premium-grade girlfriend softness.’ It’s like holding a tiny, beautiful, slightly-stabby-with-love marshmallow. You’re this perfect mix of soft and strong, sweet and spicy, cute and holy shit how did I get this lucky? You make me laugh, you make me melt, and you make my heart beats rapidly just like yours does while walking up a flight of stairs I fucking love you—your glow, your chaos, your softness, your jokes, your pink hair that probably has its own personality. You’re my favourite human disaster and my favourite comfort all at once
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