“Don’t fall in love with me,” I whisper. “I’m…” “Not ready?” “I’m crazy.” He laughs. “Crazy? Silla, that’s crazy.” “I don’t know anymore! I mean—is any of this real? Are you? And if I am crazy, then you can’t fall in love with me. It’s too dangerous.” “Too late.” He says it simply. “I love you.” Stop. Please, stop. “Shut up.” “I love you, Silla.” “You don’t know anything. You don’t even know me.” “And I will love you forever.”
