Page 74 of Hot Girls Date Demons
“You're doing that again.”
I blink.
“Doing what?”
“The magic thing.”
I glance around.
Ah.
Right.
“Sorry, my love.”
She laughs.
“No. Don't apologize.”
Her fingers trace my cheeks, my hair, and my horns—which constantly make appearances around her.
“I like it.”
Gods.
I love this woman.
Not because fate commanded it.
Not because magic demands it.
Because she is kind.
Because she is brave.
Because she rushed toward a terrifying stranger on a train when everyone else ran away.
Because she cries over elderly patients and worries about leaving hypothetical cats alone for too long.
Because she is part of my very soul.
“Desmond?”
“Yes, Myrrin?”
Her eyes search mine.
“You're really here, right?”
The question breaks my heart all over again.
I gather her hands and place them over my chest.
Over my heart.
“Feel that?”
Her smile trembles.
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