[ The dichotomy of wanting to be noticed in only the ways she had designed while simultaneously not wanting to be distinguishable at all is a constant push and pull for her. It’s no secret that she’s scared of expectation and by extension disappointment people but when her fears are laid bare, dragged out into the light, there’s no sweet, lazy veneer for her to hide behind.

It doesn’t escape her that she’s put them both up on some pedestal. Some shiny pretty things encased in a glass that she can shine and admire from behind the case but never hope to wear for anything more than dress up. But that’s where she thought they rightly belonged to stay. She’s no heir to a house, no prodigal child, a coward with a staunch disbelief in herself. There’s plenty of reasons for affection to be showered on them.

And yet there Sylvain is saying the contrary. Instinctively she leans into his light touch and her eyes flutter closed.

Her heart aches exposed and raw in her chest, overladen with want and yearning. With want of changing Sylvain’s mind — about himself or her, she can’t say. With want of showing him that he deserved everything and then some. For want of a possible future, of a possible something, that she’s still too scared to name. Her thumbs continue to brush against his cheekbones as a quiet exhalation leaves her lips. ]

I think I want you too. But I just need time. I don't want to ruin this by blurring lines or rushing into something before I know where I stand. I learned what that does and I don't trust myself not to repeat it.

[ Conviction slips into her voice, eyes rising to settle on his. ]

I know what you think you might deserve but I think you deserve the world. And I don't want to give you anything less than that.