“Yes,” he says. “Both. I want to fight with you and get mad at you. I want to finish our fucking book together, and I want to fall out with you over it. And then I want to make up afterwards. I want to hold you. I want to protect you. I want to feel your head on my chest every night when we fall asleep. And I’m cut up on the inside because of that. I’m not supposed to want any of that. I don’t know how to fucking deal with wanting that. But…is any of that what you want? If I put down my weapons here, do you think you can put down yours?”
Ohh my gosh im actually crying. I love you
