"You're beautiful," is what's said in a hushed whisper, his fingers locking in your hair and pulling you a little closer to him against the shared pillow you two laid your heads on, "Absolutely beautiful." It's enough to make you warm from the tip of your nose all the way down to your toes, but he's not done there, and he's a little breathless when he's done his end of the conversation. "And I've never felt this way about anyone before, not to an extent like this, and I don't know what I would do if I didn't wake up to you every morning. And I even love your ratty hair then, and your morning breath, and how you whine and moan and complain about the sun and even when I have to drag you out of bed due to your stubbornness, and I think everything about you is beautiful."
"I want... something," is what he replies when you ask him the question about what he wants in life, and he gets comfortable beneath the sheets with his back to the mattress and your head above his heart. You feel the vibrations in your ear when he speaks in a low, rumbled tone from deep beneath his chest, "I want kids, and money, and a big house, and things that I thought only girls wanted until I grew up and realized that I want to be responsible and be a dad and a good husband and have a career that I can live on so things won't have to be so hard for us." He pauses, only shortly, and then kisses your head and whispers, "I want to do things that make everyone happy, not just me. I want to make you happy, and whoever else may be in our family in a few years."
"I can't sleep," is what you whisper sometime around midnight, rolling over onto your other side to come nose-to-nose with him. He smiles at you gently, cupping your cheek in his hand before kissing you gently, and he tastes like mint toothpaste. "Neither can I," he explains, "What's on your mind?" Then you spill it all, from every doubt to every sadness and happiness, and he listens throughout everything and finally speaks for the first time after a little more than an hour. "You're so amazing," he murmurs softly, taking the tip of his finger and running it down the bridge of your nose before tapping your mouth gently, "You know just how to say everything, how to take something from your head and say it all, let it all out.... I love listening to you. I love that voice of yours."
"Don't be mad at me," is what you hear being mumbled in the dark as he idles up behind you and wraps his arms around you. Though you don't dare to reach your chin over your shoulder and take a peek at him, you settle into the warmth of his chest with your back to him and say quietly, "I wish we wouldn't fight like this. I wish things were easier." He's silent for a few moments, and you wonder if he's fallen asleep, but he soon uses his hands to turn you around to him and nudges his nose against yours. "Love isn't supposed to be easy, baby. It's supposed to make you crazy mad and get your blood boiling in your veins. It's supposed to make you feel and learn from mistakes and what person you want to be in love with. It's supposed to make you feel alive and flying."
"What about the future?" is what you ask in the dimly lit room, peering up through your eyelashes as you watch him settle his weight onto his elbow, using his other hand to run it up and down your naked, damp back. He doesn't say anything for a few moments, closing his eyes and thinking, absentmindedly soothing your back with his fingers. Then he says the most beautiful, smartest thing, and it's something that isn't said in his slow voice, but something that he rambles on about, flush coloring his cheeks. "I think in the future, we're going to be happy, and that's all I really care about. I don't care about the next fight we have or how it might affect us in some way. All I know and care for is happiness, and I want you to have it, and I want to be a part of it."