“I need to be with you," he whispers. His fingers move from my knee to my hand, and he grasps it in his and presses his thumb down hard on mine so that I can't possibly shake him off. He interlocks our fingers. I have no choice but to glance back up, to meet his eyes as they well up, and I've never seen him look so...so torn apart. "Don't you get it? You're not my distraction. This is me, Eden. This. Right now. You're making me a goddamn mess, but I don't care, because it's me. I'm a mess. And the thing I love about you is that I'm allowed to be a mess around you, because I trust you. You're the only one who's cared enough to figure me out. I want to be your mess.”