“It doesn’t change how I feel,” I say as I caress his cheeks with my thumbs. His eyes flare, and in the next instant, I find myself crushed against the wall, with his hand gripping my chin. “And what is it that you feel?” Leaning closer, he presses his forehead to mine. “Tell me.” “Excitement, while I wait for your arrival. Happiness, when you finally decide to show up. And sadness, every time you leave. I feel joy when I stumble upon the little gifts you leave for me, when I find them around my place.” I reach out behind his back and pull away the hair tie holding his braid as I continue.
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