"Paige," he breathed.
I love how he calls my name.
I love how he caresses my skin like it is porcelain.
I love the way his eyes crinkle at the side when he laughs.
I love the little chip at his tooth.
I love that tattoo on his bicep.
I love the notes of poetry he leaves in our room for me to discover.
I love his thoughtfulness, his gentleness, his attention.
I love it when he makes me crazy with joy, with anger, with lust.
I love him.
