He paused in the doorway, his back to me. “I didn’t ask you to love me,” he says quietly.
I stare at his back, his form outlined in the light coming from outside. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t move. I can feel my heartbeat like a timpani drum, and I wonder if he can’t hear it, too. I look down at my hands, twisting unhappily, and then I look back at him.
“I didn’t want to love you,” I say to his back. “I just do.”
I hear him sigh, and the door closes behind him.
– Zannah

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