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„Why do you love me?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why do you love me?”

 

“What kind of question is that?”

 

“It’s question I want to know. So?”

 

“So what?”

 

“Why do you love me?”

 

Craig sighed and leant on his elbow. He saw the blond man next to him. The man who changed his life completely. The man about who he cried a whole year. The man for who he would love to walk through hell and back.

 

How could he ever describe how he felt for him? How could he say that it only took one look from these crystal blue eyes, one smile to make his knees weak. That he pinched himself every morning just to see if he was dreaming and the beautiful man next to him was just a dream. How he felt when John Paul cared for him. When he scold him because he didn’t eat properly, because he forget his scarf, because he drunk too much the last night. Or how much he loved it to watch him secretly getting dressed every morning. How he loved to laugh with him, to talk with him, to be silent with him.

 

John Paul McQueen war everything in his world. He was the beginning and he knew that he would be the end.

 

“I love you because you are you.”

 

“Because I am myself? Not very creative so.” John Paul laughed and his blue eyes sparkled.

 

“Maybe not very creative, but it is the truth.” Craig smiled and recognised that he would never be able to tell John Paul how he felt about him. But he would show him. Every day. From now to eternity. 

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