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I can lose myself in some fictional story, a story that’ll allow me to experience moments of happiness that elude me in my own life.
I’m done for. The way she makes me feel… yeah. There’s no point in fooling myself any longer. I’m falling for my best friend’s little sister.
“Tell me you’re mine, Aria. Tell me that from this day forward, I get to call you mine.”
I’m fucking crazy about you, and I have been for months. Hell… I’m pretty sure I love you.”
“I’m in love with you, Aria Grant. Head over heels. Butterflies and all that shit. I’ll wait a lifetime for you if you want me to. So tell me, baby… do you want to stop? We can stop right here if you want to.”
“You’re it for me, baby. I want a whole life with you. I want your clothes next to mine, your makeup in my bathroom. I want you to have your own side of the bed, and I want to wake up to you completely disregarding that and lying on top of me instead, driving me insane.”
“Take it,” she tells me. “I’m yours. Every broken, damaged piece of me. Take it all.”
But here’s the thing about that… just because he’s the love of my life doesn’t mean I’m his.

