It was wild—these feral, all-consuming thoughts I had about Toby. He was my treasure, something personal and priceless and I worshiped him accordingly. Just a few months ago, I scoffed at the idea of loving anybody but myself. Now, holding his body in my arms, I felt like a fucking king. I lived for the moments he got on his knees for me, staring up at me as if he knew I would set the earth on fire if he asked.
