“Hey, snowflake. I missed you.” The corners of his lips twitch, before his brows crease. “. . . wait, what’s that look for?” “I don’t know how to feel when you call me that. I used to hate it.” “Why?” I sniff. Am I fucking crying? Is that what this is? I can’t remember the last time I cried. If ever. “You know why. That I’m weak and all that.” He shakes his head, and being locked in the high beam of his gaze is a feeling I’ll never get used to. “Not in my eyes. I mean, I used to call you that purely because I knew it pissed you off . . . and I’m sorry.” He reaches up and brushes a thumb over
...more
