“There are different types of love. The way I love fashion is different from the way I love my friends.” “Varying degrees of the same disease.” Dark amusement filled his face when I winced at the word disease. “Is this where you’ll try to change my mind? Convince me that love does, in fact, make the world go around?” “No,” I said truthfully. “You’ve already made up your mind. Nothing I say will change it. The only way you’ll change your mind is through experience, not words.” Surprise coasted through his eyes before it submerged beneath something heavier, more slumberous.
