“I wondered… if I could prove to you that I could protect you… if you’d ever consider this place, here with me, as somewhere safe.” He didn’t rise from the chair. Didn’t adjust his position. And yet it felt as though he had just grabbed me by the rib cage and squeezed. “You want me to stay in Kenton Hill?” He nodded slowly, and in the following seconds I felt completely translucent, as though a mere bob of my throat or the flicker of an eyelid would be too telling. But he had cast his own veneer aside. Behind those simple words was a deep wanting, and I saw it plainly. It mimicked my own.
