“That's not true though, is it?” Leaning forward to erase what's left of the space between us, his forehead brushes against mine as he rests his head on my pillow beside me. “You knew I was real. You felt something that night. Something that electrified your bones and set fire to your soul.” “What are you getting at?” “I think you refuse to run because you've become addicted to that rush, same as me. You got a taste that night, and nothing—not even your own personal safety—can get in the way of your indulgence.”
