“Because I come here, in the middle of the night, in my pyjamas and you haven’t even tried to kiss me. Not once. If you really meant that, I’d be slapping your hands away from me,”
“Or maybe, just hear me out here,” he made a gesture to quiet her as she opened her mouth to protest, “Maybe I’ve come to realize that you’re not someone who’s going to stand any of my crap, and that I’m crazy enough about you to get my shit together and be mature enough to exercise extreme and incredible amounts of self control to respect you instead of just chasing after cheap thrills,”
The moment was painfully perfect. Rife, teeming, and an echoing reminder of all the reasons they would never work. But that’s exactly what it needed to be. Maybe for a while, and maybe for always. But they love each other. And it was obvious to everyone but them.
She breaks away from his gaze and becomes particularly interested in her fingers, playing with them absentmindedly.
And he just can’t. He can’t touch her, can’t flirt with her, can’t tease her the way he used to. Because she’s off limits now. He cannot have her. He cannot even want to have her. Because it would be so wrong. For so many reasons.
“So how fare me in the art of cheering the lady up?” he breaks the silence.
“You’re doing okay,” she shrugs.
“If I were, you’d be happier by now,”
She looks up at him with a genuine smile.
“I am happy,”
And she really is. She may not be okay, but she’s happy. And it’s beautiful moment because he makes her smile. Easily. And everything seems a little bit okay even if it’s not. He takes the weight off her shoulders and she finds it easier to breathe, if only for a while, in his presence.
…
“When you are attracted to people, it’s because of the details. Their kindness. Their eyes. The fact that they can get you to laugh when you need it the most.”
Jodi Picoult, Sing You Home
