A/N: sorry about this? i know it doesn't really sound good. xP i got a cliche prompt and decided to write it anyway, because i am a sucker for this kidn of stuff. :) sorry it doesnt flow as well as my other writings. i dont own professor layton or t he characters used in this story. enjoy 3

Love. Possibly the most desired feeling to be felt by man. The feeling that nothing can go wrong, that you can always be with that one special person, no matter what tries to tear you a part. That is what would be described as simply, love.

Randall Ascot was familiar with this feeling. At first, it was the times when he was left alone, late at night, unable to get sleep. He would stare at his ceiling and think of that special person, who happened to be a teenager named Hershel Layton, also known as his best friend. At long, restless nights like this he longed for his friend's presence, and when he began to doze of he pictured just the two of them, alone in his room, cuddling. Cuddling and kissing, enjoying that special feeling. Love and caring.

At one point or another, Randall fell off into the deep end. Falling more deeply into that bittersweet feeling. The red haired boy would spend his time in school daydreaming about Hershel, occasionally giving out a quiet sigh as he slowly began to realize how elusive this feeling was. But once love got a hold of him, it was truly captivating. As captivating as his thoughts for Hershel. Many times he'd be found staring at the brunette with a silly, dazed look on his face and a light blush. The innocent fantasies he always seemed to think up were never to come true, but Randall didn't care. Maybe it was because of his lack of care that he fell even deeper.

Deeper, and deeper, he fell until one day he poured all of his feelings out.
"I don't know how to say things like this!" he admitted beforehand. "I just know I want you, Hershel. I want you to know how much I care about you, how much I love you," he said.
And, with their cheeks both red and hearts both fluttering as Hershel confessed.