Finn's POV:

While that might not have been what I was going to say, it's good enough. Anything about Eric, right? Well, that's the most prominent thing about him right now. To me, anyway. Or, it was, until the most prominent thing about him became the violent red that spread across his cheeks, which is cute.

"I- what?" Eric stammers, giving me a glimpse of the nervous Eric that I met weeks ago. It's astonishing how far we've come.

I look straight into his eyes. "You look breathtaking. The fountain, the lighting, the night sky backdrop, but most of all, just you. You're breathtaking, Eric."

Eric blinks, and I'm guessing he's trying to hold back a smile. "I- um, I don't really know what to say- here-" He lifts my hand and places it on his neck, holding it there with his own hand. He puts his other hand on the side of my face and tilts his face up to kiss me. I lean down and kiss him back. It's rather picturesque, honestly. The fountain with its blue-light hue, the stars in the sky, and the kiss that sends shivers down my spine. "Um... does that work?" Eric stutters. "I know it's not the romantic words that you were expecting, but I don't... I don't really know how to go about saying that."

I use my free hand to pull him closer by the waist, and I rest my forehead on his. "That's completely fine, Eric. You don't need to try to tell me anything with words you don't have."

Eric laughs. "Poetic."

"I am somewhat of a poet, myself. I seem to remember you are, too? Back on that first day we met- and I'm surprised I remember anything else from that day, because holy hell, you-" I clear my throat. "Anyway, I seem to remember you writing poetry?"

Eric winces. "Yeah... I guess you could say that, although I'm not like a published author or anything."

"You don't have to be a published author. I'm sure your writing is amazing." I sit back and hold his hands in mine.

"I feel like I'm getting a pep talk," Eric laughs. "Anyway, my poetry was private, but since I might become a published author one day, I might as well start showing my works to people. Care to be my first subject?"

"I'd love nothing more."

"Nothing? Because there are other things I could show you that you just refused." Eric raises his eyebrows.

"Okay, but technically, you've already shown me, so is it really 'showing' me, or is there another word for that?"

"Alright, smartass, you sure don't leave anything to the imagination." Eric says, amusement still dancing in his eyes.

"You had something to show me?"

"Which of those am I showing you? I have to admit, I do think one is more appropriate than the other in this particular setting." Eric's eyebrows stay raised.

"Must you torment me so?" I ask dramatically. "How shall I choose?" I laugh, and then say, "Show me the poetry. Maybe something else another time."

"Bold of you to assume you get another chance, sir," Eric says, getting out his phone and opening his notes app.

"What?! This is my only chance?" I place my hand to my chest, pretending to be offended. "I've been tricked!" I laugh again and scoot closer to Eric to see his phone. "I'm just kidding. Something tells me I shouldn't wish haste on things like that." I wince at my own statement. "Damn, got myself talking all olden-timey and shit."

Eric laughs, too, and seems to finally find what he's looking for. He opens a document and shows it to me. It's simple poetry. Three lines, all rhyming, large words. Except for the last sentence, which seems to tie it all together in a more basic explanation.

"I wrote this the first day I moved in. This is actually the poem you caught me writing before we left for the party," Eric explains. "This poem has lost its meaning, really. I've been tempted to delete it, but I can't bring myself to. It lets me know just how much my opinion- and feelings toward you– have changed over time. It's a good way to immortalize a time that I don't exactly wish to relive; but it's still a time that's important to look back on, if that makes sense."

"That's fascinating," I say, and I really mean it.

"You think so? I was wondering if that really made sense, and I felt like I was just talking for the sake of it," Eric says, and then his face flushes. "I... do that a lot."

I nod. "I get it. But I really think it makes sense. The poem, and the reason you kept it, I mean. Besides, I love it. The idea of not letting go of the past, even if it was something that seems like you would be better off forgetting it than not. I think... I think no memories are worth forgetting. I have memories that I sometimes wish I could erase, but... thinking about it introspectively, I think the lessons I learned from that experience- and the way that it shapes the person that I am right now- is more important than being bothered once in a while by a memory."

Eric thinks about this for a while. He trails his finger in the fountain's water before looking up to meet my eyes. "That actually makes a lot of sense. What memories did you wish you could forget? If you don't mind me asking."

I think for a moment. "Maybe... my parents. I used to think that remembering my parents would just be a bother my whole life, like they're just there weighing down on me and judging my decisions. I still felt like they were the bosses of me after Sarina and I got away from them, you know? Like they would show up and stop me from doing something they didn't approve of. Their memory felt suffocating, and I didn't want the memory of my parents- the people who should have spent their lives raising and cherishing me and my sister- to be so... depressing, I guess." I sigh and raise my head to look at the stars. "I used to wish I could forget them for my sister's sake. I wanted to raise her myself after we were taken away. It's not like she wouldn't remember them- she wasn't much younger than me, after all- but I wanted to make sure that she knew that not everyone is like them. That there's someone that will care about you, no matter how many people seem to just look over you, like you don't matter." I take a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm talking a lot."

"I love listening to you talk," Eric says with a genuine smile. "Please, go on. What made you stop wanting to forget them?"

It kind of makes my heart skip a beat when Eric says that he loves to hear me talk.

"Well," I begin. "It's like I mentioned before. No memories are worth forgetting, and it would be a waste to throw out such amazing stories. Something that could be used as instructions, too. Like, now you know what not to do to someone, because you've had firsthand experience and don't want anyone else to go through that. It puts a certain perspective on life when you know what it feels like to be hurt."

Eric looks away for a moment and says quietly, "I hope I never hurt you."

I take Eric's hands in my own before pulling him into a hug.

"Eric, don't think about it like that. Don't worry about hurting me in the future. It won't matter if you think about it like that. Instead of hoping you don't hurt someone, try not to hurt them. I know I sound kind of like a therapist right now, but sometimes you just need to hear the right things from the wrong person. And for the record, I'm not worried about you hurting me." I pull away from the hug and hold him by the shoulders, looking him in the eyes. "Alright?"

Eric nods. "You sound so wise and poetic right now. I'm being outmatched, and I'm basically majoring in learning how to make normal things sound really fancy for no reason! I can't believe this." He shakes his head, feigning disappointment.

I smile at him. Moments like this are what make me so sure I found the right person for me. He's right here. And I know that I shouldn't be talking forever right now, but I know for sure that Eric is what I need right now, to say the least.