Loving Isak Valtersen means countless of things, all wonderful and magical in their own way.
It means carrying him to their bedroom without waking him up at midnight when he falls asleep after studying for a test, tugging the blanket under him and making hushing sounds as he drowsily opens his eyes and hums in lieu of a question. It’s stroking his hair until he shuts them again, his head resting on Even’s chest.
It’s walking him to each of his classes just to get the chance to kiss him goodbye every single time, even if that means having to run to his own.
It’s gentle, careful touches in quiet nights with the only sound of soft whispers echoing through their apartment.
It’s wrapping arms around his body, rocking him back and forth as he quietly sobs on Even’s shoulder after something came up with his parents. It’s kissing his forehead and saying he doesn’t need to apologize for soaking his shirt, and that he can soak all of his clothes if that means he will feel better after crying it all out.
“our audience is this big anonymous mass on the internet, so meeting each individual person and hearing their story and actually being able to connect with the people that have given us everything, i think, is really important.”