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181 " You know too well what sparks a fire in my soul, and nothing you do tries to dim it. Everything is designed to make it brighter, from the dress to the library to the book you chose to read to me. You say you worry you want to punish me out of a desire to drive away my passion, but you forget. You forget one vital thing missing from this almost perfect theory: you know that I enjoy it, yet you do it anyway. This is not me playing the piano and you trying to make me stop. This is you sitting beside me and teaching me to play. You put the music in front of me even when it makes you bleed to do it, and I adore you for it. I adore you, more than I knew it was possible for me to adore anything. "
― Charlotte Stein , Sweet Agony
182 " OK, so … hugging. How does that go? You sort of … stretch your arms out …” He does so too robotically, too broadly. It looks kind of like he’s trying to find a boulder to slot into the space he’s made between his chest and his hands. He looks like Donkey Kong, I think, and then I giggle. “What? I’m getting this soooo right. I just have to clamp these things around you, now … "
― Charlotte Stein , Addicted
183 " I love you,” he says, though once he’s done it I can see he isn’t happy with it. He shakes his head and clicks his fingers, then puts his hand on his chest as he makes the declaration. “I love you.”“The second one,” I tell him, mainly because the second one gave me goose bumps. “Definitely.” “Or I could do it on one knee? Maybe add a bit of poetry? My love is a rare rose that blooms at the sight of you …” he offers, but of course we’re both trying not to laugh now. Something as terrifying as love, and somehow I’m relaxed enough to laugh. “But that’s not really me, right? If I was going to go with the honest version, it’d be more like this: my love is like a giant rampaging mutant from another dimension, intent on actually ingesting you in case you had any ideas about running away. "