“Holding my face with his hands, fingers buried deep in my hair, he stares down at me in the darkness. “It’s always been you, Tru. Always.”

“He touches my face, his thumb smoothing over my lips. "You're my June, Tru.”

“I’ve only ever loved one girl, Tru – and that’s you. It’s always been you. I loved you from the moment I knew how to love.”

“You ask what I want from you?” His eyes move to my lips, then my eyes. “I want you, Tru. I just want you. All day, every day.”

“Fuck," he groans. "This is.... Tru... you feel... fuccckk.”

“...I didn't know the meaning of the word dying until you left me. This last week without you.." He pulls in a sharp breath, briefly closing his eyes. "I'm nothing without you Tru, nothing.”

“Birthday present number three,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back off my face.“I’m still yet to get you anything.”“I got all my twelve the moment you agreed to be mine.”