“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
When the familiar purple home page fills the screen, he pulls up the “Winter Wonderland” collection and just presses play, letting whatever winter-pun-titled movie the platform picks play first.Then, he scoots back and starts fluffing the pillows next to me to get comfortable.
I watch him for a moment, wondering what I should be doing.When he suggested the fort, he used the word cuddle, but cuddling doesn’t always mean with another person.You can cuddle a blanket or pillow, and we have plenty of those.But then he looks at me, almost questioningly, so before I can overthink it too much, I stretch out my arm in a tentative invitation.
“You want to be the cuddler this time instead of the cuddle-e?”Parker asks.
“Okay, well I’m fairly certain you just made that second word up just now,” I say with a fond shake of my head.“But you said you were cold, so I thought—we don’t have to.We could just do what we usually do if you think it’d be weird.”
“No, not weird at all,” he says.“I’m an equal opportunist with cuddling.”
The voice in my head saying I overstepped quiets once he smiles.Then he lies down, tucked against my side, his head resting on my shoulder, and I curl my arm around his back, ignoring the way my stomach flutters just a little when he snuggles the tiniest bit closer with a contented sigh.
Eventually, after several terrible movies and lunch—eaten outside of the fort to avoid making a massive mess—I end up back in my usual position as “cuddle-e,” except laying down.I still maintain that isn’t a real word, but I honestly can’t think of another way to put it other than “little spoon”, which isn’t entirely accurate since we aren’t spooning.We’ve never spooned, actually.We’ve never cuddled while lying down until today.My head is resting on his chest while his arms are wrapped around my shoulders.It’s nice.
Okay, better than nice.It’s amazing.Part of me regrets that I’ve never sought this out until now.But I don’t know if I would tolerate this much physical contact with anyone but him.I’m practically sprawled on top of him, and I only want to be closer.
“You know,” Parker muses, breaking the silence, “I never would have expected you’d be such a koala when it comes to cuddling.”
I crane my neck to look at him.“What do you mean?”
“Hold on.”He digs around in the blankets for his phone, then one-handedly types something before showing me the screen.
It’s a picture of two koalas—a mother and baby I assume based on the size difference between them.But what do adorable marsupials have to do with me?
“See how close and snuggly they are?”he asks.“That’s kind of you.”
I frown a little.“Is that a bad thing?I can give you a bit more space.”I start to scoot away, even though I don’t actually want to.But I also don’t want to be intruding on his personal space too much.
But he quickly drops his phone and wraps his other arm around me to pull me closer again.“No, it’s not a bad thing.It’s a good thing.At least I think it is—especially right now because you’re keeping me warm.”
I let out a breath but don’t quite settle back into the embrace yet, needing a little more reassurance.“Usually when people have said, ‘I never would have expected you’d be… insert whatever comment here,’ they’ve had some sort of negative subtext to it I only ever realized after when someone explained it to me.”
“Oh, no.No negative subtext.I meant it in a good way,” he rushes to say.His cheek comes to rest on the top of my head for a moment.“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say.
Finally, I let myself relax into his arms again, and his posture loosens a little too, almost as if he was waiting for it.Or that he was afraid I would pull away again.
I think it’s the end of the conversation, but then he continues.“If I had any sort of problem with anything between us, I would talk to you directly, not make some sort of passive-aggressive comment expecting you to guess what it is.”
Oh.
To most people, that might not mean much.But to me, that means the world.I never actually thought I would have to guess with him, but hearing him explicitly say so is a weight off my shoulders.It’s confirmation that he sees me.
“Thank you.Me too,” I say.
“Yeah, I know.It’s why I like living with you,” he says, sounding almost fond.“You always say exactly what you mean.”
“Most people hate it,” I say dryly.
“Most people don’t have a raging anxiety brain trying to convince them everyone secretly hates them all the time,” he deadpans.
There’s humor in his tone, but I suspect there’s also some sort of hidden fear behind his words.I’m familiar with that anxiety, although the origins are probably different for both of us.But I know what I would want to hear, so I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him, needing him to see my face when I say it.
“I don’t hate you.”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.Then his face breaks into the softest smile.“I think you’re the first person I actually believe when you say that.”
