He looks at you like you’re the only other person in the room. His attention is physical, a warm heavy coat draped over your shoulders. He’ll quote poetry in that voice, a low rumble that you feel in your bones and it’s never for show, it’s just for you. He holds your hand like it’s a priceless artifact, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin. He’ll leave you little notes in his elegant, slanted handwriting not just "I love you," but a single perfect line from a poem you once mentioned you liked. He remembers everything. He teases you with that razor-sharp wit a playful glint in his eye, but it’s always a joke you’re both in on. He makes you feel like the most fascinating, desirable person on earth, and he does it with a quiet, devastating confidence.When he kisses you, it's not rushed it’s a long and slow, deliberate act that promises you have all the time in the world.