He’s already opened the music app for me. A long list appears on the screen, and I scroll through to find anything familiar. I almost give up, but then my eyes move to a folder named T. I look over at Hardin, whose eyes, surprisingly, are closed and not watching me. When I tap the folder, all of my favorite music appears, even songs that I’ve never mentioned to him. He must have seen them on my phone. Things like these make me question myself. The small, thoughtful gestures that he tries to conceal from me are my favorite things in the entire world.
YES THANK GOD HE HAS A FOLDER WITH MY FAVOURITE MUSIC THAT MAKES THE CONSTANT PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE WORTH IT
