Run, sweetheart, run.

With painstaking rumination, the tips of his fingers grazed over my neck, a deafening silence. I didn't move as his hand paused at the base of my throat. He listened to the arrhythmic beating of my heart, my pulse thumping beneath his fingers. He kissed me along my neckline and throat. I almost burst apart from the longing. My blood burned for him.

Don't wait until it's too late to tell someone how much you love, how much you care.

You Just scared me half to death," I said.

"You should be thrilled you're halfway there.

Love is not for only One Day, Every Day is Valentine Day and may be actual Valentine day is not a day of love for you.

Dying would be normal for me, and one day, I'd be buried beneath a stone, and nothing would matter anymore. It'd be ordinary, like life.

And that terrified me, endlessly.