“You used to smell like cotton candies and summer,” I tell her. “And fucking Maltesers.” “Hey!” She pushes at my chest. “Don’t go insulting my Maltesers. I love them, okay? Besides, you should be honoured I shared them with you. They’re delicious.” “Not really. I only ate them because you kept shoving them down my throat.” “You ungrateful arsehole.” I chuckle, running my fingers through her hair. “I haven’t eaten them since back then.” “Me neither. I remember wanting them when I was a kid, but Aunt’s strict diet didn’t allow me regular chocolate and sweets. I never asked Uncle for them,
...more
