Happy late Valentine’s Day! As usual, I didn’t have a date, and to make matters worse, my asshole brother is dating the girl I like. Yeah. So after I read the crap out of the last volume of +Anima to quell my anger (those whimsical little children calm me down), I remembered something wonderful: I am a part of the fanfiction community! And so, without further ado, here ish a littul Ed/Edd oneshot that really doesn’t have much to do with Valentine’s Day. Okay, nothing at all. I think that’s what makes it so good. I was little disappointed in the lack of V-Day fanfiction in the EEnE communitah… get off your asses, people! Or, better yet, get on your asses and stop getting so much damnable exercise. Fanfiction is weeeeeeeeee more important. I actually enjoy being single, because honestly… how could I ever explain this?

Disclaimer: keesh me arsh, I doeshent owns da shaw. Noh maneysh comesh to mesh froms dish.

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*_* Bew!

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^.^ yay

Warning: yowee ahed.

There is nothing I hate more than being told I’m beautiful.

I mean, honestly, how is one supposed to reply to that? I’m a male, hello! Ah, well.

Anyway, you’re probably curious as to why I would say such a thing. Don’t most people long to be complimented, to be flattered? And when the one you love remarks upon your beauty, aren’t you supposed to smile and blush, or at least get that warm feeling inside?

Well, I hate it.

Okay, I don’t.

Actually, I do.

Well… there are some things about Ed that I hate because I love them so much. Like the way he makes me feel more beautiful than I actually am. I know he’s trying to make me feel good… and he does… but then, I develop this perplexing feeling inside that tells me I don’t deserve to feel that way. I suppose it comes from a lifetime of insecurity. One could call this entry a touch on my insecurity, actually.

Hopefully one day I will look in the mirror at my pale skin and see creamy skin, peek into my own lackluster eyes and see the sparkle that Ed sees, inspect my awkward features and notice what causes Ed to wear that loving expression when we spend a moment locked in a gaze. Perhaps, someday, I will take off my hat with steady hands and run my fingers through the dull, flat, pretty much greasy black hair that Ed kisses all night long, and for once it will feel like the cool silk that Ed speaks of and not the steel wool that I’m used to.

Indeed, there is a certain… sadness. The aforementioned insecurity again plagues me as Ed’s perfect nose comes into contact with my – well, disproportionate is the best word – one. As he giggles sweetly and the little gust of breath strikes my lips. As his big hands very gently squeeze my arms. As our foreheads touch and our breath mingles between our moist lips. There is a certain sadness, in me.

I’ll get over it; I know that very well, thank you. But it’s here now, and though my hope for the future dulls it, it’s still sadness, and sadness is sadness. When a budding relationship first begins to blossom, that sadness is also known as my word of the lifetime, insecurity. I think to myself, how can this strong, sweet, gentle, beautiful, strikingly perfect person stand to be around someone like me? Someone so…

No one needs to tell me; I see it every day when I get up for my morning shower. When I step out of my cascading oasis I use the towel to smear the fog away in an arch-shaped space that my visage invades, this “clear” section of the mirror still not quite smooth enough for me to see much detail. No one needs to tell me how… should I say, plain? mousy? unattractive? homely? I really am.

Oh, how depressing. How sad.

Anyway, as our relationship grows, my insecurity will surely die away. These thoughts I have, these doubts, they will surely begin to waste. Already I feel a little more confident sometimes, and I am beginning to see a much brighter glimmer of hope for our future – this being the one we share – and my future; the way I will someday carry myself, see myself. Be.

Ed doesn’t worry about these things. This is certainly one of my favorite features he posesses. He has a quite confident aura surrounding him as he goes about his day, laughing and carrying on, going through a thousand different facial expressions in just a few minutes. He’s also very passionate; now this is absolutely one of the main reasons I fell for him. I cannot list them all, so bear with me as I continue to realize them.

Although I’ve always known my friend – well, lover – as the most honest person in my life, my little insecurities afflict and dog me as I battle the sweet words that he pours upon me. Am I really beautiful, Ed? There is no fallacy in your gentle eyes; no twitch to your kind smile. He is telling the truth. I am beautiful.

No, wait, I’m not.

And now I feel terrible because this delicious, sugary speech he is uttering warmly in my ear is causing an internal war instead of melting me like it should. At least I know it will someday. At least I am very, very certain that someday the honesty will not be one-sided.

The fire within me is quelled as his lips rain down like cool drops of water on my skin, forcing me like some kind of beautiful manipulation to wrap my arms around him, squeeze him, shriek a little as his body becomes my lifeline and my anchor.

I float up through him and to the ceiling. When I return to my body, I am lost in a sea of bliss. In fact, that is a quite accurate metaphor for my ecstacy. Ed’s smiling mouth gently nips and traces my lower lip. I am unresponsive, in only the mind. I see him, but what I hear is the rush of the ocean, filled with an echo of his voice, saying nothing.

Do you know that particular feeling; that one where you feel as though you’re rocking, because you’ve been out on a boat all day? Perhaps you don’t, but there are probably other ways to end up rocking without moving at all. Just swinging back and forth, feeling as though you are being cradled in the arms of an angel.

Well, there’s no way to describe it unless you can recall the feeling yourself, but the bottom line is… I feel it now. With him.

And his breathtaking eyes become sleepy, and we smile at each other and kiss each other warmly, softly, gently. His big, damp hand reaches up to cup my face as we lay side by side. He brushes some hair out of the way and touches my burning hot cheek with a cool drop of water; a little kiss. His knuckles barely brush the peach fuzz on my face. It’s the most exquisite feeling ever.

Don’t stop.

He begins to whisper to me that I look really beautiful right now. I thank him, and tell him that he’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known in my life. I love you. I love you too.

This time, his observation of my beauty causes nothing more than a few heart palpitations and a desire to give him a big, wet kiss on the lips.

I’m pretty tired by now, but I can’t stop looking at his face. I don’t want to miss a moment of his kind smile, his freckles, his flushed cheeks, the little locks of auburn hair clinging to his forehead, beaded with sweat. I reach out for him and he reaches back. That’s when I realize how cold I am. His hand feels so warm on my shoulder.

I scoot up to him and kiss him on the chin. He smiles and takes me completely into his suddenly colossal arms. I feel small and weak. Okay, delicate.

I use his soft, warm shoulder as a pillow and rest my hand on his waist as he wraps me, traps me in his warmth. We cuddle and he whispers into my hair. I smile and hum in sleepy response to his endless compliments. My cheek is pressed against his heartbeat. I press my mouth against it and wait until I can feel the pulse on my lips before I finish the kiss with a tiny smacking sound, and a smile. Ed chuckles very quietly and strokes my hair, then sighs contentedly.

I yawn, and he follows. My eyes suddenly feel much more heavy than before, but it’s a good feeling because I get to go to sleep. It’s an amazing feeling, really. Truly. Amazing.

My hand, which rests on the dip of his waist, slips forward and comfortably adjusts to its new position on the small of his back. Our bellies are now pressed together. I smile and hum in delight as his pushes against mine, then sinks back as he breaths slowly. Softly.

That’s when I realize it’s dark in the room. That’s when I realize we can’t see each other anymore. When did he turn off the light? Or did I do that?

When we lie in bed together at night, there is a certain joy. The sadness that had earlier afflicted me is so distant that I can’t even picture myself feeling it.

I am so stupid. Why do I even worry about beauty? Someday I will see what Ed sees… maybe. Perhaps no one but Ed will ever truly understand what he sees in me. I suppose I’m fine with that. Eventually I will see my own beauty (is that word a little too strong here?) or at least realize how unimportant it is. Right now, being with my sweet Ed, our naked bodies pressed together, his large hands engulfing me and my tiny hand on his outrageously warm back… it’s beautiful.

He makes me feel so much more adequate than I really am. How on Earth does he do that?

Damn it, Ed. I love you.

Good night.