"God, I'm sure I look like a trainwreck," she muttered.

"Hm," His eyes found hers, "what was that?"

She let out a short breath before repeating herself. "I bet I look like a trainwreck."

His eyes examined her face, caked in a mix of makeup and tears. He had no idea why she was crying, but he knew that she was, and that his presence was enough on its own. His eyes met hers, and she could see the deep brown of his eyes soften.

"I don't care what you look like. I love you."

"I know," she whispered, pressing her face back into his chest, "I know."