I don't want to rush you.
Not your heart,
not your trust,
not even your smile.
I want to learn you slowly—
like a song
that becomes your favorite
not in one listen,
but over time.
Tell me what makes you quiet.
Tell me what makes you stay awake at night.
Tell me the things
you never say out loud—
I will listen
like they matter.
Because they do.
You are not a puzzle to solve.
You are a story to understand.
And I'm not here
for a chapter—
I'm here for the whole book.
Yes, I will flirt with you—
shamelessly sometimes—
like when I say
you look too good
and then pretend
I didn't mean it.
Or when I hold your gaze
just a second longer
than I should—
because I want you to notice
what I'm too careful to say.
But beneath all that—
there is something deeper.
A responsibility
I feel without being asked.
To not hurt you carelessly.
To not love you lazily.
To show up
even when I don't have perfect words.
Because love
is not built on grand gestures—
it's built
on consistency
that doesn't break
when things get real.
And if you ever doubt
what you mean to me—
look at the way
I stay.
Look at the way
I choose you
even on ordinary days.
That's where love lives.
Not in forever promises—
but in daily decisions
that quietly say,
"I am yours…
and I am not going anywhere."