‘Eleanor?’ he says, turning his face into my neck and breathing in. I hum, and he goes on. ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ I feel his grin stretch against my neck, and, I swear, I smile the widest I ever have. ‘I will.’ ‘And Eleanor?’ I hum again, and this time he pulls himself free from my neck and gazes at me. ‘I love you.’ His voice is barely a murmur, hardly heard.
