“I like listening to you. I like never knowing what out-of-pocket thing you’re going to say next. I like hearing about your ideas and your thoughts and then reading how you piece them together. I like that you’re a little bit feral and that sometimes you let me get away with teasing you.” Each word is tapped into the blank page of my skin, inking deeper and deeper until I feel covered in his confession. “I like when you tease me,” I whisper, my admission feeling both too intimate and too inadequate.
