“I love you, Indigo Bellamy. My love for you is like a studded leather jacket worn inside out. It digs into my chest, eager to produce blood. And I will do anything for you, not because you’re my muse or my salvation or my best lay, but because you’re inside me, like an organ, like a vital thing I cannot function without. I don’t even want you at this point. I need you. It’s different, and carnal, and completely necessary for my existence. Fact number two.”
