"This cat is looking at me with judgment.""He's not," said Jules. "That's just his face.""You look at me the same way," Mark said, glancing at Julian. "Judgy face."
He caught her by the wrist, brought her hand to his bare chest. Splayed her fingers over his heart. It beat against her palm, like a fist punching its way through his sternum. 'Break my heart,' he said. 'Break it in pieces. I give you permission.
You're the only person I've ever loved like this, and I know you're the only person I ever will. And I'm not myself without you, Emma. Once you dissolve dye in water, you can't take it back out. It's like that. I can't take you out of me. It means cutting out my heart, and I don't like myself without my heart, I know that now.
He was drowning in want, his control shattering like glass blown out of a window by a blast concussion. He could almost imagine he heard the shards raining to the ground beneath them. The broken pieces of his willpower. Of his life.