“I want her to be safe. I want her to be mine.”

“I want to keep her, but I don’t want to tie her. I need her to be able to run, but not to want to. I need her to knowthat. I need her to feel safe with me. Fuck it, I just need her.”

“I shouldn't have stayed as long as I did, but I wanted to hold her while she slept. I wanted her to know I wasn't going anywhere. That she was safe with me. In my arms.”

“If she was mine, I'd cherish every inch of her. And I wanted to. Now”

“I want to tell her not to speak, want to say it, but her lips are on mine again and I taste me and I taste her and I don't taste what we're saying and I don't taste Noah. I taste Camus—I owe to such evenings the idea I have of innocence.”

“I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I lie motionless, savoring the feeling of her body against mine. I'm afraid to breathe in case I break the spell.”