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“Secretly, he was ashamed of himself for allowing a girl such as her to have so much sway over his feelings. He was rarely prone to obsession, and, frankly, wasn’t used to it. But the thought of him being with her was warm on his mind, an idea that first began with a sunset and then floated over to just above his heart, where it settled into an easy flame. Maybe that’s the way it was with love—it began in a most inconspicuous way before consuming the totality of one’s life.” — Moses Yuriyvich Mikheyevh
Secretly, he was ashamed of himself for allowing a girl such as her to have so much sway over his feelings. He was rarely prone to obsession, and, frankly, wasn’t used to it. But the thought of him being with her was warm on his mind, an idea that first began with a sunset and then floated over to just above his heart, where it settled into an easy flame. Maybe that’s the way it was with love—it began in a most inconspicuous way before consuming the totality of one’s life.