“Are you okay?” That’s when I noticed I was crying. I laughed and wiped the back of my hand across my cheek. “Yeah. I know I’m weird, but I tend to cry when I’m really happy.” His small smile was so tender, so dear. He lifted a hand and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “What do you do when you’re sad?” “I get angry and want to break things.” “What about when you’re angry?” “I bake something chocolate?”
