“ It’s okay, I love the creepy feeling of waking up to someone staring at me.”

“No really," I whispered, letting the sweet, peaceful feeling steal over me. "It only matters if there's someone to care if you don't wake up. It's okay if I don't wake up because there's no one to care.”

“Something magical has happened to me: like a dream when one feels frightened and creepy, and suddenly wakes up to the knowledge that no such terrors exist. I have wakened up.”

“Okay," I began. "You’re too old for me. You’re scary. It’s creepy that you were so all over my mom and now you’re all over me.”

“Silence, and then Eve said, "Okay, that was extra creepy, with whipped creepy topping. And this is me, changing my mind.”

“I love you present tense,” I whispered, and then put my hand on the middle of his chest and said, “It’s okay, Gus. It’s okay. It is. It’s okay, you hear me?” I had—and have—absolutely no confidence that he could hear me. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Okay,” I said. “Okay.”