It’s so late, 3 or 4 in the morning, yet he can’t get his mind to simmer down. All he can do to occupy his mind is stare at his lover beside him, her hair haloed out around her pillow. His eyes scan across her facial structure, the way her lashes lay on her under eyes. As far as he’s aware, she’s fast asleep, completely dead to the world in sleep; he just wants to tell her everything, all his love for her, even though she can’t hear him.

Andrew: “I wanna marry ya one day…”

He mumbles into her hair, not thinking she can hear him.