"i don't hate you," you said, your voice was barely a whisper against his chest.

"i know, baby" he murmured, his arms tightening around you.

you looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. “but i should hate you," you confessed.

"you should," he cupped your face between his hands, eyes burning with intensity. “and it makes me the luckiest bastard in the world that you can't manage to" he rasped.