Noah was your best friend.

He'd always been.

Even when he moved away for a year.

When he came back, he wasn't the Noah you knew anymore.

It felt like someone had taken honey and poured it all over him, making him the sweetest and somehow warmest human being ever.

And it definitely made him sticky as well.

As soon as someone touched him, they couldn't let go.

Which meant you had to share him.

And you knew that should have been totally fine, you were just best friends after all, but sometimes it still hurt a bit.

When others complimented the knitted jumpers that you'd made for him.

Or his leg warmers, which everyone used to make fun of.

When he would just smile at them, his warm and bright and happy smile, which you started to hate, because it made you fall for him.

It didn't help that he'd bring you coffee every morning, yours black, his a soft caramel.

Then he'd give you one of his headphones, and you would sit there, before everyone else came, listening to indie music and drinking coffee and sometimes he would doodle in his bullet journal.

Until one day he turned to you and smiled, so close to your face, so close to your lips, just knowing all of your secrets.