Darling,

She watches him sleep, his chest rising and falling. She thinks about how much he's hurt because of her and she has to look away. "I'm so sorry," she whispers to him, knowing she won't be making anything better. He rolls over, his back, bare and covered in freckles, to her. She runs her hand along his side, pulling herself to him. He stirs for a moment, his breath subsiding and then he lets out a small noise before opening his eyes and blinking several times. For a moment, he's not sure where he is, and he jumps at the feeling of her cool skin against his, almost forgetting she was there. "Jesus," he lets out, rolling back over, his face in the pillow. "What time is it?"

She stares at him for a moment, sitting up, holding the sheet to her chest, not sure what to do. Then, unwillingly, she pulls her eyes away from him to search the nightstand for the clock. "Almost seven," she breathes, looking back at him.
"What is it?" he asks, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She falls back down, continuing to watch him as he watches her. "Is something wrong?" he begins to panic, sitting up on his elbow. "You're not going to leave again are you?"
"No!" she exclaims, looking away from his pained face. He sighs in relief, letting his head hit the pillow again. "No," she says again, this time much quieter and barely audible to him. He reaches out and touches her face, his finger lingering against her cheekbone.
"What is it?" he asks again, this time softer. She grips his hand, bringing it to her lips.
"I love you," she says. He pulls his eyebrows together, not sure what this is all about. "Okay?" she says. "I love you."
"Why do you say it like that?" he asks, holding his expression.
"Because I'm not sure you believe me."