“Is that okay? If I...take care of you?” My heart hammers behind my ribcage, causing my stomach to rattle and my breathing to falter. I want to memorize the sound of those words coming out of his mouth. The way he says you and means me. The way he looks in my eyes while he says it. The way I matter to him. If this feeling was a color, I would want to paint it all over my skin, let it seep into my pores, making it a permanent part of me.
