"His hands were warm, pressed against my back, and his breath was soft on my neck.  He held me close, but without a sense of desperation or longing. I wanted, so badly, to show him just how much it meant to me that he cared. How much it meant that he told me that he loved me, even if he didn't mean it. He pulled back and looked down at me, his face blank, as if trying to see into my thoughts.
'Are you alright?' He asked, gently brushing the hair from my face. I nodded and pressed myself back against him. He pushed me away again.
'Love,' he sighed, and shook his head, 'Something has been bothering you. What is it?'
'I'm scared.' I replied, feeling myself begin to tremble. I knew he could feel it too, and willed myself to stop. 
'Of what?' He grabbed my hands and clasped them tightly.



'Of you."