“Hannah." He looks at me, the same way he looked at me last night in the diner, with longing and sadness, and it's like everything I'm feeling I can see in his eyes. I want to kiss him so bad it hurts, but I know I can't. So instead, I tear my gaze from his and look down at the ground.”

“In his eyes I could see the same love, the same longing. I wanted to kiss him; I wanted him to kiss me, and I could feel his longing so clearly I could not distinguish between my wanting and his. And in his arms I felt safe, warm, alive.”

“Just Michael, how grateful I was that he was alive, how much I wanted to touch him. How much I wanted him to touch me.He kept his eyes on the activity outside. "Emerson, you can't look at me like that. Not right now.""How do you know I'm looking at you?""I can feel it." He smiled. I couldn't see it, but I could hear it in his voice. He hooked one arm around my neck and gently pulled me to his side.”

“He looked so lost, so soulful, so lonely. I wanted him to kiss me now. I wanted to let him know I was his for all eternity.”

“Is that your cheap way of telling me you want to kiss me?”He looks into my eyes, his dark gaze capturing mine. “Querida, I always want to kiss you.”

“He runs his finger tips along my cheek, caressing my face. “Hush. I’m right here.” He looks at me with deep anguish in his eyes. Like there’s so much he wants to tell me but feels it’s too late now. I want to stroke his face and tell him that it will be okay. That everything will be all right. And I wish so badly that it would be.”