"You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear." Oscar Wilde ________________ His lips grazed against the skin on her cheek before he gently pressed a kiss there. She could feel the heat radiating from her face and she was silently thankful that it was so dark outside he couldn't see her blush. "Mon coeur est à toi," he whispered ever so softly as he moved his lips from her cheek to her ear. My heart is yours. | The Last Hours ↠ Chain of Gold ↠ Matthew Fairchild [1] |