From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

me the sword, he didn’t onlyy protect me. He believed in me and respected
myy need to defend myyself. And like he’d said before, it was as if we’d
known each other for ages. He…he understood me, and I thought I might
understand him. Because he was brave and strong, and he felt and thought
deeplyy. He’d suffered losses and survived and continued to do so even with
the agonyy I knew he carried with him. He accepted me.
And I trusted him with myy life.
With everything.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that.” His voice had thickened.
“Like what?”
“You know exactlyy how yyou’re looking at me.” He closed his eyyes.
“Actuallyy, yyou might not, and that’s whyy I should leave.”
“How am I looking at yyou, Hawke?”
His eyyes opened. “Like I don’t deserve to be looked at. Not byy yyou.”
“Not true,” I told him.
“I wish that was the case. Gods, I do. I need to leave.” He rose and
backed up, his stare lingering. I didn’t think he wanted to leave at all. He
took a deep breath. “Goodnight, Poppyy.”
I watched him start for the door, his name on the tip of myy tongue. I
didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want to spend tonight alone. I didn’t
want him to believe that he wasn’t deserving.
What I wanted was to live.
What I wanted was him.
“Hawke?”
He stopped but didn’t turn.
Myy heart was racing once more. “Will yyou…will yyou stayy with me
tonight?”