“I want to be with you throughout our future and all the way to the end of it. I want you all, with all your perfections and imperfections, with your ridiculous eyebrows, sassy comments and that small smile you give only me. I love you Derek Hale and I want to spend my life with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to give you cheesy goodbye kisses when you drop me off at work. I want you to make me dinners like you always do when I sleep over. I want you to persuade me to leave the word aside and just lay with you on the couch, watching TV. Damn, I want to grow old with you. Just that and everything at the same time. I want it all. The whole story.”
I don’t know why but I feel this unspeakable urge to write and draw happy things for them. I want them trading cold-nosed Eskimo kisses, I want them holding hands and crossing the street. I want marshmellow roasting, and couch-snugglling and book reading, where the pages stick to sugar-coated fingers.