“You wanted confessions of love, right?” I ask her, noticing how she blushes that much more. “Stop making me feel like an idiot for that,” she says on a frustrated huff. “A simple ‘I love you’ would suffice,” she adds, clearly mortified by this point. I do enjoy her finally understanding things a little better. My smile slips when I realize how terrifying and humbling that all must have been for her. Claim her. Mark her. Free me.
