For a fleeting moment, she seemed as though she felt guilty, like she had just realised she never cared enough about me to know about me, about my past, about my life.
“I’m sorry.”
She murmured as she lowered her gaze, drawing circles on my forearm, she looked back up at me, something hidden beneath her eyes, something like… desire.
“Tell me about you?”
She spoke ever so softly and it made me want to reach out and brush aside her silver locks from her face and I did just that as I placed another soft kiss on her forehead.
“What would you like to know?”
I tilted my head, watching her contemplate on what it was that she wanted to know about me and then, she spoke.
“Everything, your childhood, how you grew up, your parents, your life.”
Surprised that she was truly interested to know a
