I love you,’ he whispered, and kissed my brow. ‘Thorns and all.
I threw myself into that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn.
I found him carefully studying me, his lips in a thin line. “Has anyone ever taken care of you?” he asked quietly. “No.” I’d long since stopped feeling sorry for myself about it.
I was as unburdened as a piece of dandelion fluff, and he was the wind that stirred me about the world.
