He tightens his grip on my face. “Listen to me. I won’t ask for your forgiveness.” He glances at the door before locking his frantic eyes back on me. “I don’t want you to forgive me right now. I just want to know you’re out there and there’s a chance. That one day, maybe we’ll meet again, and I’ll walk up to you and say I’m Nicholas Tennyson Woodsworth, my favorite color is blue, I hated school, and I am so fucking in love with you that I can’t imagine living in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”
