“Want me to tell you why I call you that?” I ask her.
Cassandra nods.
“Because you remind me of one. Beautiful. Mesmerizing. Too fragile for this awful world. A pretty little butterfly I can’t help but want to protect.”
It’s been twenty years since I’ve loved someone.
But I recognize the feeling.
It’s like hearing a song for the first time after years and years but remembering every lyric the second it starts.