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“Have you ever just looked at someone or something and thought, I want to keep it? Like, I want to protect him from the outside world but, at the same time, his helplessness and fear are so…intoxicating? I want him to be soft just for me.”
“I get it,” Adam said. “It’s how I feel about Noah. Not the helplessness and fear, that’s a little fucked up—not that I’m judging—but the second I looked at him, I knew he was mine. Maybe it’s an evolutionary thing?”
It was such a spot-on assessment, it took Lucas’s breath away. He was sad. Deep down, in a place he never talked about, Lucas never stopped being sad. If he did have a soul, his was bruised and battered, aching for some kind of release.