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To the boy who set my heart aflame

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Eliott had figured out pretty quickly that this was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. With Lucas. No doubt possible, of course.

Every time they were together, everything just felt so right. Like it was meant to be. Like this was his purpose, their purpose, their place to be. Not that he ever believed in this, ever. He didn't believe in fate, or destiny, or soulmates, for that matter. He didn't wanted to, because if there was something deciding the way things were supposed to be, then why the disorder? Why should he go through this? Why should he feel so bad for just existing, sometimes?

He had talked about this with Lucas, once. He remembered that he answered him that his bipolar disorder wasn't him, but a part of him. And that yes, it was an important part of his life, but it wasn't everything. And that it also made him him. Able to see beauty in everything. And that the highs came with the lows, but that now he didn't have to go through it alone. Not anymore.

Lucas was, he thought, something way too precious to be wasted on the ugliness of the world out there. Which brought him back to the situation they were in. And why it was his favorite.

It was his favorite because, when Lucas slept, his brows weren't knit together like they were when he was worrying. His lip wasn't stuck between his teeth. They didn't bit the thin skin around his nails either.
He was beautiful, as he was always, but now he looked ethereal. Lean arms spread on white sheets. Disheveled hair resting against a soft pillow. Milky skin covered in invisible kisses and caresses. Quietly kissed by the sunlight entering through open curtains. (Because they forgot to close them yesterday, too busy removing each other's clothes).

He loved him all the other ways too. Working on the sofa, cooking for them both, walking on the streets with their hands intertwined. Saying his name like a curse, laughing, looking at him like he was the center of the world. (Which Eliott wasn't. Lucas should've seen himself before releasing such a statement).

The only thing that was missing was his eyes. So blue he thought he dreamed he first time he saw him. A trick of the light, here's what he told himself. But then, he actually got to spend time with this beautiful human being, and he saw that it was real. That his eyes were really this (amazing, incredible, impossible) color. (So blue you could drown yourself in them with regretting it one bit).

And when Lucas was like this, he couldn't see his eyes anymore. And he missed them. Because they were beautiful, yes, but also because they always looked at him with love (so much love. Sometimes almost too much). And when they didn't, there was always a voice later to apologize and to explain. Eliott kind of feared the point where it would not. Where Lucas would leave. Where he would be alone. And he know that maybe, this would happen. But Lucas told him that he would stay for as long as they both wanted it. And he trusted him. So much. With everything.

Anyway, he missed Lucas' eyes.

Which is why, when they finally opened up, he felt himself smile and losing himself in them again (and in their kisses too). But he wasn't afraid. He knew that he could lose himself in Lucas as much as he wanted, because Lucas would always bring him home (by his side, that's where home was).