I push my fingers against my lips and let out a sound I haven’t heard since I was young and small. It hums pleasantly from my chest, tickling its way up my throat. Immediately his eyes meet mine, stretching wide, eyebrows arched to the sky. And now he is grinning. “You laughed,” he says, flustered with levity. I look down, smiling. I forgot how good it felt to actually laugh, release the built-up tension from my chest. “Yes, I did.” “That was—incredible.” His eyes soften. “You know I haven’t heard that—well, it’s a pleasant change from your constant frowning.”
