can u write about what it feels like to be in love?
Thank you so much for my first ask!
Being in love feels like adventure and freedom and pain and growth and sorrow and bliss and affection all at once because love is everything. To love is to live. It’s something you do, it’s something you live for, it’s something you experience, and it’s something you sacrifice for. It feels like a great rushing water that flows up from your belly, to your chest, and it pours out, pushing you to be bold and soft and kind and better than you ever thought you could be. And no matter how much it hurts, it is always worth it to love. When you love, just like rushing waters, you become part of things outside of yourself, people and ideas, and you give life and beauty to the world around you. And suddenly everything is different because you loved.
if i dated iwaizumi hajime (27) physical trainer i’d make my goal to make that man flustered. daily. i’d keep him on his toes, waiting for the moment i’d strike with something perfectly crafted to make him stop, heart rate picking up and face heating with overflowing second hand embarrassment, fondness or horniness. any time of day. iwaizumi would never be prepared. i’d strike like a snake, quietly and always on point.
there would be days i wouldn’t be aiming or planning my strike. days i’d just woke up, or maybe i’m just starting my day in the kitchen, or even days i’d be too busy and just got home with a couple hours until midnight. days where my offhanded, painfully honest and loving comments would do the striking for me when i’m not thinking and when he’s definitely not waiting.
and iwaizumi would be once again confronted with the fact that he’s doomed. he’s in too deep. i’m too much of a mastermind, somehow; he can’t compete.
so he tries to strike back.
and he realizes something with it. there’s no need to. the more iwaizumi waits for a opening, the more he plans a strike, the more he notices the way my eyes always follow him. the way i’m constantly smiling by his side. the way i’m overwhelmed by his presence to the point i go a bit dumb. the way my heart is constantly beating too hard when he touches me. the way my feet follow him when he’s close. the way i just love him wholly.
he thinks, fondly and smirking, that i suffer enough as it is. and after all, we’re even.