It’s the strong connection between us. The love. The possessiveness of what we have. We’ve belonged to each other since we were fifteen, in a way. I’ve always wanted him, and now I’m about to lose him – the boy who sat at the pool, whose cigarette I stole; the innocence of him as he used to watch me, as I’d watched him throughout the years. Until that first kiss, and the second, and every kiss after. We fell harder than I thought possible. We lost. We fought. But after so many hurdles, we were so close.
