Goodness, I love his voice!
And how it seeps through his nose. I love that meek whistle—that almost lisp—ssweet ssserenity, when he calls my name! I love the way he falters through his sentences, constantly fumbling for words. And how flustered he gets whenever he mispronounces the R in my name. Darling, you don't need to hide from me—
I am not them.
But you don't see that, do you?