I memorized the shape of his face, the bone structure I’d been taken with from the moment I’d first set my attention on him. In Uncle’s class, I’d thought he reminded me of a painting or sculpture done by da Vinci. All angles and lines; strong and sharp enough to carve a person’s heart out if they ventured too close. A smile started at the edges of my lips. I’d fought so hard against falling for him, never realizing I’d already been laid out on the ground, staring up into my future. “I love you, Thomas Cresswell.” I kissed him gently, before straightening. I permitted myself another stolen
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