They admitted to themself, miserably, that he was right. Kye had always equated being wanted with being worthy. They allowed themself to be wanted on the surface—selfishly, for a purpose. If someone intended to use them, fine. But accepting praise, or unearned pleasure, or gentleness made them uneasy. How could someone possibly mean it? That was always the question. For as long as Kye could remember, they’d never believed in their own desirability.
