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The way he stood up when I walked in or out of a room. Like a modern man and an eighteenth-century English viscount combined.
You have to grab the pieces of yourself you want to hang on to and let go of the rest of it, then move forward anyway, the best you can.”
Here’s the secret to making other people happy: you accept that what makes them happy is what makes them happy, and you don’t question it.
“Why, are you interested in dating me thoroughly?” “So fucking thoroughly, you don’t know the half of it.”
Will’s fingers leave my hair, dance along my knuckles. He likes to absently touch me, I’ve noticed.
His voice lowers, his mouth at my hair. “But I was never meant to be your hero. I honestly think you were meant to be mine.”
He presses his lips to my forehead—a gesture I’ve come to realize is meant to soothe him, primarily.
