Connor is classically handsome. Browny-caramel waves. Deep gray eyes. A square jaw peppered with stubble. But those things I can ignore. It’s the gentle way his anger surrounds him, the way he holds himself like the tallest person in the room, how he manages everything in life with such extreme confidence—those are things I’ll never have and will always crave. It pisses me off that I don’t know if I want to fuck Connor or be Connor. I don’t want to want either of those options.
