My hands are shaking with the ferocity of overwhelming pain I’m experiencing at being in his head and having him in mine. The intimacy of it. It’s like the weeks apart drop away instantly, and it reminds me of everything I miss the most about him. His voice, his overprotective need to take care of me, the way his presence, even in my head alone, makes me feel suddenly safer, cherished, and he’s only making it worse by saying everything I’ve wanted to hear. Why did he have to go be stupid and mark that b***h?
We? As in … you’re with someone else?
It’s the crumbling of his tone and the hint of hurt that seeps through that shakes me out of my rose-tinted stupor, and I realize he thinks I might have found someone, as in a mate. I don’t get why he would jump to that conclusion unless it’s gu
