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“Never have I ever been afraid to tell someone how I feel about them,”
I slide my fingers over hers, gripping the wine glass, bringing it to my lips.
Logic rarely ever wins when shattered hearts are involved.
“Here it is, honey. I love you. I am so goddamn, mind-blowingly in love with you, and the thought of losing you is killing me. I don’t want you to go. This place only feels like a home when you’re here.”
She’s everything warm and rich, this cozy feeling that sinks into your bones, settles all your racing thoughts.
what a wild thing it is to be loved.
