I fell in love with her slowly. The first time she smiled at me. The first time I made her laugh, our first kiss, our first time together. When she fell asleep in my arms and held my hand at my mother’s grave. When she confided in me, trusted me. When she stopped flinching, when she started reaching for me. Trusted me. I fell a little more each time until, before I knew it, I was completely in love with her. I’m hers, but she’s not mine. Not fully. Her heart still reaches out to the city. To her old life. To her freedom beyond these walls. Nothing will replace that, no gift or love. She needs
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Kenzo...🥺
