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PETER: Listen, I know you're sort of angry at me right now, but I don't like it when we're mad at each other so I come bearing Sour Patch Kids and Harry Potter.
FREYA: God, you always make it so hard to be angry with you — come in.
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One day I looked at you and it occurred to me how beautiful your smile was. I heard music in your laughter—I saw poetry in your words. You asked me why I had that look on my face, as though a shadow had fallen across its sun-drenched landscape, heavy with premonition, dark with revelation.
The second I tried to tell myself I wasn't in love was the moment I realized I was.
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