“Thanks, but you don’t have to lie. We both know it's true.” “You’re—” He cuts himself off as he wets his lips, almost like he’s trying to figure out what to say next. He contemplates it for a moment before swallowing harshly and reaching for my hand. “You’re more than that to me.” Fuck, there he goes, saying all the right things. That’s where all these feelings are coming from. Sometimes the shit he says… it just makes sense. Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be making him feel better?
