“Do you regret what we did last night?” Milo’s hands disappear from my neck and skim down my arms. His fingers slide into my back pockets. “Indie, I have many regrets, but you will never be one of them. The world is a fucking dumpster fire. There’s so much hate. There’s so much judgment. I refuse to bend to anyone’s opinion. They don’t know us.” I love you, Milo.
