genre: fluff 
wc: 1352
A/N: this was based off of a flash of a dream I had.. less action more story telling :) hope you enjoy;;
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You were on the couch curled up. Your legs tucked against your body as the blanket warmly embraces the silhouette of your body as you bundle it up in your fists and place it against your chest. You were watching some television show that was playing. You really weren't paying attention. The Colors danced across the screen. It kinda burned to see them so you turn yourself upwards to face the ceiling.

Your intentions were to fall asleep. You couldn't get a wink of sleep being cuddled up in the comforter without the warmth of his body radiating against you. Your body forming against his back, his chest against yours or just knowing he was right next to you muttering to himself as he slept. His voice was as deep and vibrant as his presence. You've got a soft spot for him, and you hope that he also completes the mutuality of your deepest feelings.

He was editing. The whispers of the tv try to grab your attention, but you paid no mind to it. Its static and babbling little characters, boxed in its own body, softly hum in the background, as you hear him muttering to himself. You can hear him disagreeing with his choices and clicking away the mistake he made. You occasionally hear a couple of laughs and chuckles that coincide to his successful editing as he revised it by replaying it over and over again. Occasionally, he would stretch his hands. He would either stretch it parallel to the side of his screen or turn his body to the side then stretch.

You told him that the pain in his wrist and hands could be from the carpal tunnel. You even showed him how to stretch out his hands, making sure he took care of himself. He chuckled and kissed your forehead when you told him that. "What're you my doctor?" He asked. You laughed and blushed. Sure, you were his doctor. You were willing to be his anything and everything as long as he was willing to be your anything and everything.

You pulled the blanket onto your face. You wanted to scream into it. You were flustered as hell thinking about those cute memories. He can be cute. He can be a fucking idiot. He can be a bit insensitive. He can be anything, really. He was almost like an actor. You admired his acting skills for the little comedy bits he delivered to his audience and friends. You admired how dedicated he was when he found his blaze of passion. That passion consumed him, and it was possessive over him.

You've seen The Passion keep him up in ungodly hours. You see him check his phone then type in a message then resume his editing. You even woke up to him yelling in his microphone. You had to scold him, of course. Like you said, He was an idiot. Sometimes when you wake up to go to the bathroom or to get a drink of water, he would be reading a book to give his eyes a rest or study on his eight by eleven lined flashcards. He'd be so invested in his work that he didn't even notice you sauntering around like a damn ghost.

You'd assume some computer man would be a bit brain dead after staring at the screen for hours, but the guy was smart. You admired that about him. You've seen him read Plato's Symposium and send lovely voicing of his advice script to his microphone. You admired his want to help others through the screen and into his videos. His calmer channel had a bit less attention, but it was underrated. You've watched all of them, and you couldn't help, but feel a bit closer to him, his brain and his heart than you already have.

You love that man. You really do.

Normally, you would sleep fine without him in the bed, but you missed him. He's been working his ass off to keep a consistent schedule to keep those consistent views. So, you laid on the couch just to hear him talk to himself or to hear the click of his mouse. You lay there, cocooned in the comforter you brought in from your guys' bedroom. You turned towards the cushions, to steer away from the bright television and its moving, whimsical colors. You close your eyes, comfortable in your own thoughts.

You flinch when you feel a slight shift and soft touch on your calf.

"Hey Sweetheart," He whispered to you with a chuckle. You melt as the soft gravel of his voice reaches your ears. His soft accent unravels something warm inside of you. You turned your blanket wrapped body to look at him. "Sorry if I startled you. I didn't mean to take you out of your sleep." You told him, he didn't. He smiles with a soft "good" and turns his head towards the television. "What're you watching?"

The television flooded the room with a royal blue. You stare at his side profile and cherish his lax posture. He was so, very, very pretty. He would probably cringe if he heard you say that, but you knew he would be just as flustered. He looked content and relaxed as he watched the television. You see the reflection of the television shine onto his hazel eyes. His eyes following and analyzing the scene before him.

You knew He wasn't completely happy about the way he looked. In reference to his face reveal, you thought it was funny that everyone had changed his profile picture to him. Each one a different frame of his face. You notice his grimace and uncomfortable laugh as he scrolled through his twitter. You didn't know what was going on in his head that day, but if you were him, you would feel like it was some big joke like collective thrashing of his appearance. His fanbase did give him some tough love, so you wouldn't put it past them if they pulled a stunt like that.

You cherished the way he looked. He had no moviestar handsome face, but he was handsome nonetheless. You enjoyed his embracing brown eyes. You love the small moles that kissed his face. You adore the flaws that went along with him. You could thread your fingers through his soft hair for a long period of time. You love to feel the curve of his cheek bones. You love to caress the line of his jaw with your thumb as you held his face to kiss him. You cherished the line of lashes of his lower lid. They were very pretty.

" Hey, you still with me?" He asked before turning his head once again to face you.

"Yeah," You said with a soft smile. "I'm still with you. You finished with your video?΅
"Yeah, I'd say maybe ninety-nine percent done." He said with an exhausted grin."You should head to bed, It's late...like one am late."

"Nah, I'm fine. I'll stay up with you, yeah?"

"If you're sure."

"I am."

You got out of the blanket's hold. You pinch at the corners of the blank and wrap the blanket around him as you hugged his shoulders. His musk was nice. It smelled like home with a tinge of Old Spice or Axe to spoil it. You bury your nose into his shoulder then rest your cheek on it. He felt homely. He wrapped his arm (the one closest to you) around your waist and hummed.

"I love you, you know that right?"

"Of course, I do."

"You're mine too, right?"

"As you are mine."

You smiled into his shoulder before looking at him again. "Good."

"Good." He replied back with a soft chuckle.

You cradled his face onto your hands and placed a soft kiss onto his forehead. You looked into his eyes and chuckled. He looked up at you with soft eyes. Your chest bubbled at his cute complexion. You brushed your fingers through his hair and gave him a kiss on the top of his head.

"Don't stay up too late, okay Jonathan?"

Writers tip: make sure to space out your paragraphs, so it's easier for your audience to read your writing :)!