“Y-you think my smile is gorgeous?” He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Fuck yeah, it’s gorgeous. Every night, you’d climb up to your roof and you’d just open your arms like you were soaking in the moon and you’d smile and Jesus Christ, I’d lose my mind. And I’d tell myself over and over I wouldn’t do it, that I wouldn’t go out but I did anyway. I’d still go out there and watch you while pretending to work on my roses. I’d still wander around the house, chasing after your strawberry smell like a disgusting creep.”
