~~PEYTON~~
"Axel," turning slightly to face him, I reach up and place my wet hand on his cheek. "We just spent an hour proving that Raphael doesn't exist for either of us.”
He clutches my hand on his cheek. “That wasn't an assurance, Peyton.”
“Then how should I prove it to you?”
He sighs, suddenly looking deflated as he tears my hands from his cheek. Stepping back, he runs both hands over his wet hair, regaining the posture of the statue he was trying to be earlier, but his eyes remain dark and wounded.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he says. “You just have to stop looking for replacements.”
“Oh my God, is that what you think of me?” I snap. “You think you're not good enough for me?”
He shrugs. “Nah, I think I'm too good for you.”
I'm suddenly short of words.
I sigh. “
