“I need to tell you I love you, Viola. Not only that I do but how I do.” “You don’t have—” she started. But she fell silent beneath the brush of his lips across hers. Besides, he had been right. It felt different to hear it. “I would say”—he shaped the words close to her mouth, as if each of them was its own kiss, a private prayer—“I love you as a man loves a woman, but we both know that love is not bound by such narrow terms. So instead let me simply tell you that I love you. I love you with the unfading flame of my friendship. With every drop of ardour in my blood. I love you with my soul,
...more
I’m swooning. I’m not okay.
