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If he didn’t stop saying things like that, Noah was going to do something stupid like fall in love with a murderer.
“I know you’re mine. I know it. Deep down, in that part of my brain that doesn’t care what is right or how society dictates how people choose a mate. I chose you. I want you. Just you. My brain has picked you, and now, I can’t undo it. You’re trapped. With me. For life.”
Letting somebody see you isn’t a bad thing if you can trust them.”
“Like, I don’t know what love feels like, but I know that whatever I feel for you, I’ve never felt for another person—ever. So, who’s to say that’s not love?”