“She's proud of you. She said so herself. And she knows you deserved a chance to be happy. I know that, too" I added. "I just wish Henry could look at me the way he looks at you."Persephone wrapped her fingers around mine. "You should be glad he doesn't. When he looks at me, he hurts. But when he sees you..." She smiled faintly "He has hope. I'm not surprised you don't notice it. It took me a while to read him, too. I spent thousands of years with him though, and I know that look. I saw it the day we got married. You don't forget the first time someone looks at you like that.”
“He looks at her and smiles. "You're sort of dangerous, you know?" She stares at him. "Me?" "Yeah," he says sitting back. "I'm way too honest with you.”
“Then he muttered like he was talking to himself, "I don't know if I want her to figure out she's fuckin' gorgeous so she isn't so fuckin' clueless when a player marks her or if I'm glad I finally got one who looks as good as her and has no fuckin' clue.""Are you wanting me to participate in this discussion or are you having a conversation with yourself?""You're participation isn't required," Sam replied... and I looked up to see him grinning.”
“She smiled at him. “How did you know just what I’d want to see?”“How could I not?” he said. “When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.” He looked away from her as he said it, but not before she caught the slight flush on his cheekbones. He was so pale, he could never hide even the least blush, she thought — and was surprised how affectionate the thought was.”
“I just want you, Trevor,” she said, knowing nothing else mattered as long as she had him. “You have me, sweetheart,” he said, pulling away just far enough so that he could look into her eyes. “I promise you will always have me.”
“You should do that more often,” he said. “Laugh, I mean.”“I know.” But that sounded sad, and she didn’t want to be sad, so she added, “I don’t often get to torture grown men, though.”“Really?” he murmured. “I would think you do it all the time.”She looked at him.“When you walk into a room,” he said softly, “the air changes.”