“I love you, Kelly.” He nailed me with his intense gaze, his eyes unwavering and brilliantly blue. “I guess the only thing left to ask is ‘Do you still love me?’” “Blue—” “Do you love me?” I sighed. “You idiot. I’ve loved you since you were twelve years old, Blue. It’s only gotten worse since then.” “Better,” he corrected. “Semantics.”
