I Can't Change You

“Do I look okay?” I shyly asked Damon, who sat on the edge of my bed as I smoothed out my baby blue party dress. He laughed at the question; I blushed in return. “Im being serious here, Damon!” I say, half scolding and half joking. “Honey, you know I'll always say you look perfect.” —“Well Im asking you because I want your real opinion, mister.” —“That is my real opinion, Miss Bree.” His tone of voice, everything about him– it made my knees wobble. I loved him.