I Deserve Better - A Gentleman, A Gallant, A Chivalrous Knight, A King. A Man Who Knows The Value Of

I deserve better - a gentleman, a gallant, a chivalrous knight, a king. A man who knows the value of a woman and protects and nourishes it every day of his life. A man who doesn’t feel entitled to her love but rather earns it and does their best to deserve it daily.

A man who cares, instead of having nonchalance be their sole response to every thing. A man that is gentle and holds you as such - not as something that might break but as something precious that can only ever be cherished while it’s present; one who understands there’s no time to waste.

Next time you think of lowering your standards, listen to that whisper inside you: “I deserve better.”

You fucking do!

You deserve someone who inspires your growth and alignment with a higher self, not someone who sinks you down to their level, or lower. Not someone who is only ever going to take, and take, and take like a thief. Not someone who is going to distract you from your goals and passions.

You deserve better! And if they try and convince you otherwise, they are not it, my friend! No matter how “hot” they may be.

Well, aren’t you sassy, today?

-If you get to know me, you’ll find I’m always like this. Ask any of my friends.

Is that a hypothetical or a proposition?

-What is?

Getting to know you better.

men in silver jewelry >>>>>>

That’s alright. We’ve got time to kill.

- Why would you wanna kill time, though?

Idk. It’s just something that’s said. I guess you either kill time or it kills you.

- Woah

Yeah, wow

Favorite thing is nonverbal communication.

How characters who have spent so much time and shitty experiences together can read each others moods and intentions from a single gaze. How the flicker of a gaze can suggest a thought process they both share. The tilt of a head. A hand gesture. A smirk.

It’s an underrated representation of intimacy. I adore it

My love language is memorizing little details of you that not even you are aware of. I stash them in a box in my brain labeled “Memories of You”

I like my guys mysterious, puzzling. I like taking my sweet time undoing a question mark. I like mulling over ambiguous “what ifs” and “what did he mean when he said” and “when he did”

I like pinning and yearning in secrecy. I like the thrill of accidentally brushing hands, meeting gaze.

I like the idea of having you before it becomes real. I like the possibility hanging in the air. The held breath of excitement.

I don’t even care if he likes me back, or busies himself with the same hypotheticals as I do. I just like the crushing part.