He presses against her once more, content to make out with her with his body weight grinding her into the mattress, heart surging. After everything, they have this.
Is he? He hopes so. For a minute he lets himself pretend he’s never doubted himself, but he knows he could just believe her all the time. It feels so easy.
What else can he say to that, to all her glowing words, that could possibly match? He just continues to make out with her, hands pawing up and down her, grinding against her just for the sheer joy of being close. But he does manage: “I love you, I want the world to change for you.”
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"You're in love with me," she whispers, like it's some sort of secret she's discovered and is immensely pleased to share.
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"Madly so," he says. "And completely transfixed by you, from head to toe, in my body and in my soul."
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"I chose you, my love."
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“And I wouldn’t be here at all without you.”
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"I'm so glad you are, Clive. My world is a better place because you're in it."
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