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Do your friends know what you’re like?

What?

Do your friends know what you’re really like? With me? In the hollow, in the bath, in our bed.

Do they know what I’m—?

Have they seen your face, lit by moonlight, terrible and grinning? Seen you laugh to harmonize with screams? Felt what it is to be small and in your hands?

That’s not very romantic. You say that like I’m the one haunting you.

Walt projected the deepest frown he could manage, and Hollis grinned, under the soft weight of Annie’s fingers.

Annie is so kind.

Told you so.