I don’t know how to respond to Florian’s saying “I love you” without sounding cheesy or obliged. I used to feel unsure about my feelings or expressing my feelings for him, but after all the time spent laying either in bed or sofa with him and of course, after the fall, now I can confidently confirm what I have for him.
Florian posesses a very gentle smile. Whenever our foreheads and noses touched upon seeing something both feel relatable, he would wear that smile. It wasn’t a big one nor a small one, it’s just the kind that makes me feel at east, complimented by the blue grey-ish color of his eyes. But then, from time to time, I would throw him a joke regarding sex positions or my corny pickup lines (for which sometimes I have to pay for since we have a piggy bank contributed by each time a bad pun is thrown), of when we were watching Harry Potter 5 and it got to the part where Fat Lady of the Gryffindors was trying to smash a cup using her high-pitched voice, that smile would burst into a laughter that sounds somewhat similar to vocal warm-up.
Florian called me by different German words that sound so strange but at the same time, so deary. Sometimes it’s “schatz”, sometimes it’s “knuffle”. At the meantime, he enjoy my calling him “Fiji Bear”. That’s just my thing, I gives those names to people, Jorge The Jungle, Bathrobe, DJ Man, Koen Diva, Bnamiz, Tiger and so on since those make me feel closer to them. “What is Fiji Bear?” Florian asked me once and I couldn’t bring a proper response except for “I don’t know” to the plate. It’s just something that happened to happen, like an idea flashing in a trainwrecked moment of thought and then imprinted. “I also like Bussi Bar,” he said, referring to some fictional bear character in what seemingly is a very popular child story in Germany.
The first time I met him, he looked way much better than on his Scruff profile. I’d said grey hair is something that turns me on. Indeed, it is not just nice to look at but also very soft and thin, easy to run my fingers into, and easy to grab whenver he was giving me head on his unmade soaking wet bed sheet. The moment is magic, when he looks up at me, with that gentle eyes while his hair is still my grasp. There is no trace of anything that deems too sexualized or dirty. So is the moment when he was putting on some lube on my cock and his behind. In porn, or in my past encounters, such moments are usually lustful, filled with dirty verbal exchanges, sometimes insults, but this one, with Florian, tt is just a regular look but still, much more profound.
Florian loves cooking. So as I. The only difference is that he is really good at it. As usual, my ego and my advertised ability to do tradtional local food inspired by my mom is exagerated a bit. I think he saw it through upon seeing me cutting things and complaining about the bluntness of the knife without realizing that it was the other way around of such object that I was holding, twice. I tried to resort to my childlike creativity to make up a cultural excuse, sometimes it’s “because we want it that way, to be cut that way” and sometimes it’s “good luck in our culture to start with this way first”. Again, this is where I got to witness his gentle smile that I would like to spot exclusively, for me just only, which was accompanied by some German sarcasm. After all, he did encourage me to do better and make me want to do better, not just in cooking.
And not to mention everytime he tries to make me stop babbling about Pokemon or saying sorry for a deemed improper etiquette, he would just stand up, leave the spot and force a kiss on me out of the blue. “Force” might be a rather strong word but it does catch me by surprise, in a pleasant way however, and to which I responded with my trembling silence and more kisses.
I used to have a hard time sleeping next to a partner. For Jorge, I just stayed awake and watched him sleep. With Olivier, I usually found myself coughing in the middle of the night and trying to maintain the silence so as not to wake him up. But with Florian, I haven’t heard how things go from his side yet but I can actually sleep, in any position, and wake up to find our hands still intertwine or his leg is crossing over to mine. He is also the one, and only one SO FAR, to say that I snore during my sleep, which is something I don’t believe since such rubbish had been unheard before. Again, the gentle smile and “I’ll put a recording next time.”
And there are many more things that I want to write about him, for example, his habit of walking around in briefs (which is not my preferred choice of underwear) and t-shirt, his drawing of my name on steamy bathroom glass surfaces, his geekiness whenever he approaches me with something scientific (we’ve argued about electricity rate, baking powder which I called ‘explosive powder’, CO2, pork fat, manufactured fruit juice, plastic bag vs. Nylon, his frizzy drinks and so on…), the hot chocolate that he doesn’t mind, or maybe he does mind sometimes, making me whenever I ask for one and his efforts in getting along with my friends and my children students. This might make me sound like a person with no reciprocation but actually, I’m more in charge of ice cream, fresh market products and local stuff.
I’ve always thought that I would write down those thoughts but expression is expression. The ‘love’ word is what I’ve never used for anyone else except for my first boyfriend, Ben, and once I thought I was in love in Jorge. Florian should be the fourth but again,whoc cares about the scoreboard. It is gone with me being in his presence. Hamiz said congrats and maybe, he does sense in those texts I send him that I’m in a very soft place to land right now. There might be no more songs, no more blue lyrics to write down and no more ashes burnt but this is much better, positively.