" And you do it to be strong. Because you hate weakness.”
With a rush, his breath leaves him, and he sags in his chair. “Yes,” he rasps. “Only I believe you are my greatest weakness now, chatty girl.”
My camera lowers, and I stare at him, unwilling to hide my hurt. “You hate me?”
He blinks as if trying to break out of a fog. Color tints his cheeks, and his breath kicks up once more. “I think,” he says, “adore would be the better word.”
Oh. Hell. "
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