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Neil never cared about the details that most people generally would – hair, if the clothes matched, makeup or eye color. For a lot of time, everything that he cared about was how to make those characteristics be the most ordinary and forgettable on himself.
But Andrew was always an exception to his rules.
Neil never paid attention to how the sun brightened another person's eyes. But he would be the most inattentive and dumb person to ever step on Earth if he didn't pay attention to how his partner's hazel orbs lit up in the morning, because no one who has the normal cognitive skills would ignore the honey-like color of Andrew's eyes in the sun.
These eyes that seemed full of boredom to some, tired and even melancholic – rarely. The same orbs that were fixated on Neil's in the darkness of the night, and didn't even flinch until its owner was certain that Neil was really okay.
Andrew knew, better than anyone, that a nightmare is capable of disturbing any man. That in the dead of night, not even his eyes, usually neutral for anyone except Neil, were capable of hiding the angst of his soul and his most painful traumas.
Andrew's look didn't transmit any signs of angst or discomfort and even if it was hard to believe, not even his usual false boredom. Instead, he transmitted something precious that once was rare for the couple: tranquility.
– Your tea will get cold.
His partner's voice, still raspy, brought Neil back to reality from his own thoughts.
– Thinking this early? there won't be any brain cells left for the rest of the day... - Andrew said, and snorted (something that Neil learned some years ago that it's something Andrew does when he's having fun).
– Just admiring. - He smiled and took a sip of the tea, observing the hazel eyes roll in a sense of false annoyance.
Neil spent the rest of the breakfast with a silly smile on his rosy lips while Andrew drank his heavily sweetened coffee- or sugar with a little bit of coffee, as Neil liked to say.
– Hey, don't push yourself at practice today. I noticed that you came home limping yesterday. – Andrew said after taking a bite of his overly sweet doughnut that Neil bought while returning from his daily run, full of little crumbs of sugar and filled with custard. There were some crumbs around the boy's lips that Neil wanted to lick off, even if he didn't enjoy sweets that much.
– I'm fine, Drew. - Neil said with a little smile on his lips, because even if that part of his leg still hurt, he could still go back to his normal activities.
Andrew raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, pointing to a little jar on the counter, filled with one dollar notes.
– Come on! I'm okay, it was just a cramp... I think...
Andrew narrowed his eyes at him and lightly squeezed Neil's calf, watching his lips twitch.
– What were you saying about it being just a little cramp? C'mon, the jar, you know the rules.
Neil knew the rules. One dollar for each time he said his catchphrase: "I'm fine" and its variations, like "I'm okay" or "Everything's okay".
– Sure, okay.
He opened his wallet and took a dollar note, quickly putting it inside of the jar. It was a rule that they had established years prior, and even the other Foxes were involved – if Neil said that he was okay (when he wasn't), he would have to give a dollar to each person who heard him.
Neil kissed Andrew's sweet lips after a quick look, licking off all of the sugar crumbs that were there. In the end, he decided that even if he didn't enjoy sweets, they were very good on his husband's mouth.
Obviously he already knew that, but it was good to reassure the facts.
Another fact was that Andrew enjoyed light squeezes on his waist, something that Neil took note of after years of being with him and lots of "yes" to the "yes or no?"
That being, with a squeeze on Andrew's waist and a kiss on his jawline, Neil went to take his post-running shower, quick as always. He used some shampoo and conditioner, a demand from his partner – despite Andrew himself making sure to wash his hair, always murmuring that Neil wouldn't know how to do it in the right way.
Neil knew the truth was that his husband acquired a certain liking for taking care of his auburn strands of hair. Not just that, but Andrew genuinely enjoyed taking care of Neil and his necessities – given that he forgot multiple of them, especially on overwhelming days.
Neil was so grateful, and felt so many things for Andrew that he couldn't begin to describe, even if he wanted to.
He knew that Andrew felt everything through his words, his gaze, his actions. His "yes or no" and his respect said much more than four mere letters, whose meaning he never learned – no one ever taught him.
Andrew taught him more than that.
Neil learned that it's okay to be vulnerable, it's okay to stay. It's okay to cry after receiving a call, giving him the heartbreaking news that his only figure closest to a real father was gone forever and he wasn't even there.
And Neil also learned that Wymack felt sorry for him during all of those years since he joined the Foxes. Maybe he was like a son that Wymack had borrowed – even though Kevin wasn't like a brother to him.
Kevin Day was an eternal companion. Someone who understood his deepest fears, who experienced a whole life of something that Neil only lived for some weeks. He wasn't a brother, he wasn't a romantic partner, but he was someone very important to Neil.
Matt was his best friend, someone who would always respect his own space, but would never miss the opportunity to offer him a hug or a distraction when the pain from a long day caught up with Neil. Matt was like a warm sweater on a cold day.
Andrew gave him a key and called it home . He allowed Neil to stay even with the lies, because he would never lie about that . And that's why he found his family, his true family.
And he knows that Andrew learned many things during the years that they had together, and will learn even more with those who have yet to come.
That was enough, more than he thought that he would have someday.
Years ago, the only future that he had in mind, he would be dead and buried by the hands of Nathan Wesninski.
Now, he has friends, family and even a husband.
He can sit down and have breakfast with the most important person of his life, knowing that tomorrow he will be able to do so again, and again, and even the next day after the last one. And in the next thousand mornings that have yet to come.