He lowered himself onto the grass,holding his head up with his hand, his face turned toward the sun. He looked so perfectly at ease and so easily perfect that it was hard to believe he was even real. He was so lovely that it hurt to think of what he saw in me. The ordinariness of my humanity couldn’t possibly be endearing compared to the fantastical beauty of this faerie boy.
Yet there he was, utterly content to be with me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand, but I didn’t mind.Having him was more than enough. To ask for an explanation would be greedy. Still, I had to wonder if there had been others before me. After all, he’d been alive for three centuries. Certainly he hadn’t spent those years alone. It hurt to think of others holding his heart, and that others would, because, of course, I wouldn’t be around forever.
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