I love you so much

"I love you so much."

Those had been the words he'd said to her as they lay panting in each other's arms, his voice muffled against the side of her neck. Their skin was slick with sweat, and by the light of half a dozen candles Grace watched steam rise from Stephen's shoulders in the cool air of the bedroom. His dark hair was tousled and fell into his eyes when he rolled to the side, slipping off her body as easily as he'd slipped inside it.

Reaching up with her long, elegant fingers she traced the line of his profile; over his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, over his parted lips and under his chin. Her touch opened his brilliant green eyes. He turned his head to look at her, and as always, she was absolutely charmed by the sight of his face.

They'd started out as strangers in an elevator. Three hours of conversation in that steel and smoky mirrored cube during a power outage had launched them into each other's arms within the day, like two magnets passing too close to one another. The pull was too strong to resist, and now, a year later, they still fell together like teenagers, impatient to touch.

She watched him, wondering how many times he'd said those exact same words to other people. When he said it to others, did he mean it the same way every single time, or did his level of love vary depending on the woman he was with? Who was worthy of the full dose? What did they have to do to earn it? How could it be lost?

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, pulling the sheet up to cover the bare lines of their bodies.

"Do you love on a scale?" she asked, pillowing her head on one arm.

"What kind of scale might you be interested in trying out?" He was being playful, and she smiled softly at him.

Stephen was always joking with her, teasing and making her laugh; he was her lighter side. She had gotten out of a very long relationship only days before meeting him, and she’d been certain he’d be a rebound fuck and nothing more; one quick romp and that would be that. That one romp had caught her like a fish in a net, wrapping her up in the burning need of addiction, and now she couldn’t imagine being without him, and the her feeling of dependence scared the shit out of her.

“How many other people have you said those words to?” Grace asked, and Stephen’s expression morphed from playful to confused, like dawn becoming day.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his brow furrowed, “I love a great many people, don’t you?”

“I always thought that you loved one person, all the others you were simply very fond of,” she looked worried, as though she was sure she was failing a very important test even while still taking it.

“Is there no one you love?” Stephen asked, trying to understand why the idea of various levels of love was so foreign to her.

“Only you,” her answer was simple and without hesitation, though the lines of her face were showing an increasing level of panic.

He slid closer to her, pulling her into the circle of his arms, and she clung to him like a shipwreck survivor clings to driftwood. Leaning back slightly he looked into her eyes, caressing the silky skin of her cheek, “It’s all right,” his voice was soothing, and her panic began to dissipate like the morning fog, “Love can be learned, I will help teach you.”

Grace buried her face in the curve of his neck, simultaneously anxious and afraid about her impending education. Would she be any good at it? Would she be able to change her deeply rooted understanding of the most complex human emotion? She could only try, and hope that she would make a good student.