“Everyone has a lot of ideas.” “Ideas about what?” “For me to tell you how I love you,” she says simply, like she’s not driving that shovel in the center of my chest and breaking my ribcage right open for all her sunlight to come pouring through. A smile starts in her eyes, nudging at her bottom lip until she’s standing there and grinning at me, looking like every happy thought I’ve ever had. I take a step closer and she tilts her head back to keep her eyes on mine. “Josie’s suggestion involved fireworks.” “Don’t need fireworks,” I grit out, my voice rough and tight. My hands ache to hold her.
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