✧ even

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(Y/N) sat on the dark brown leather sofa - the one Brian had recently bought for his house. She held his 'private' notebook in her hands, and was reading through all the lyrics he had written in his free time. Her expression was unreadable but he could see a ghost of a smile forming on her face.

He was blushing like crazy, unable to hide his embarrassment. His lyrics were exclusive to only him and his bandmates; but he had been unable to refuse her.

"You write very well."

"Thank you," he replied, sheepishly. A blush was evident on his face now.

"Your lyrics are very deep and meaningful." She put her hand on top of his; her hand was cold, "I hope you know that you deserve a lot, Brian. You deserve to be happy, you know that?"

Mustering up all his courage, he met herbeautiful eyes, and with a smile he said, "Thank you, (Y/N). I hope you're always happy."

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