#765: 'You're so pretty when you cry.'
"Even when your eyes are all puffy like that," he whispers at the end, laughing a little when your slightly bitten lips come up in a semi-smile. He pulls you closer to him, his somewhat small thumb coming up to brush the remainder of tears away. "You're really pretty all the time," he whispers with a tender kiss to your forehead, his free hand brushing your hair at the nape of your neck, "It's really unfair, did you know that? You're too pretty. So pretty."
"Even when you try to tell me you're not." He looks down into your eyes, blue striking and bold, staring down at you. He brushes the freed strands of hair in your eyes, tucking them back behind your ear so he can have a good look at your face. "God, you're beautiful." Your eyes water, your lips quivering, and he kisses the fear right off of them. "No more tears, beautiful. Just because you're pretty doesn't make I like seeing it. It breaks my heart."
"Even when it's because of me." He smiles sadly, holding the back of your neck with gentle fingers so your chin is tilted up to meet his eyes. "I'm really sorry, pretty girl. I'm so sorry." Your eyes sparkle, somewhat because of the leftover tears and the other reason is because it's nice to be called pretty and it's nice to be held like this, and it feels good to get into silly arguments and make up in the end. "You're so pretty. I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry, love."
"Even when I can't even understand a word you say...," he drawls off, smiling down at you softly when you blush in humiliation. "Hey, it's no biggie." He kisses your cheek softly, winding his arms tighter around your middle as he says, "You're still beautiful." You press your face into his chest, breathing in his comforting scent faintly of smoke and cigarettes. He keeps telling you how pretty you are, how much he loves you, and it's okay again.
"Even when you get snot and slobber all over my favorite shirt." You laugh weakly at his attempt at humor, running your hand gently over the shoulder pad of where he kept your face pressed into the fabric. He watches you with pretty green eyes, smoothing his fingers down your back as he soothes you in a silent matter. "Even when you do a lot of things, you're just far too pretty, even for me. The prettiest of them all, right?" He hugs you again.