Really and Always, Truly and Forever~(Jeremike)

--(Mike's POV)--

I wrapped my arms around Jeremy, and when he turns to face me, I crash my lips into his.

He stumbles back, obviously surprised at my action. When I pull back, we both smiled.

"Jeremy, I've... I've really liked you for a while now....no... Like isn't the word I'm looking for... More like... Love... That's it... Jeremy, I love you..." I say, looking him in the eyes. I felt a blush settling on my face. "And, if you don't feel the same way, I understand if you don't feel the same way."

He looked at me, his face a bright pink. He had the biggest smile on his face, as he launched his body towards me, inclosing me in a hug, knocking me off balance.

"Mike..." He says. "I-I've liked y-you t-too. E-Every time I t-talk to y-you, m-my s-stomach k-knots up... and I-I find I-it h-hard to b-breath..."

I smile.

"T-that's why I-I a-always s-stutter...I f-feel so a-awkward a-around you..." he says, looking down. "I f-feel l-like...I-I c-can't c-compete with y-you."

I frowned. What did he mean?

"What do you mean?" I asked. He hesitated.

"W-well... your brave,strong, gentle, kind," he said, numbering then off one by one on his fingers. "Loving..." Dropping his hands, he sighed. "You're all of those t-things, and I'm j-just....me."

I gently swatted his head.

"Jeremy Fitzgerald! Don't you even say that!" I exclaim, going over to his backpack again, putting some clothes into it. "You are very brave, gentle, kind and loving! I've only known you for... under 24 hours, but... I feel as if I've known you my whole life."

He smiled, turning back to what he was doing. He was grabbing his phone charger, and folded up some of his hoodies. He came over, taking the backpack from my hand, and he dumped out the clothes. Before I could ask what he was doing, he processed to fold the shirts, and putting them back in the bag.

"Oh my god..." I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"What?" He said, folding a long sleeve shirt.

"Are you, like, OCD or something? Everything has to be perfect?" I asked, throwing 2 more shirts at him, closing all the drawers. I grabbed some pictures off the dressers, as well as a brown leather cover book.

"...yea.." He mumbled. I laughed.

"What's this?" I ask, holding up the book. He looked up and shrugged.

"My...therapy journal." He says, folding more shirts. "I wrote in it after I moved out of my dads. I made myself go to therapy. Stupid idiot, told me about 10 times every session that is be totally fine." He said, rolling his eyes.

I attempted to go over the fact that the boy I loved had to go to therapy.

(A/N)
Yup. I just wrote that. Jeremike, Jeremy needed therapy. Yup, don't judge me.

~_the_lone_virus_