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"I miss you"
He was shocked by his own answer. He quickly shut his mouth, swallowing harshly as if that would take back what he had confessed. Morrissey's face was unreadable yet his inner turmoil was entirely overwhelming, bubbling over and threatening to spill onto his features. His heart begged him to believe the man in front of him who he so easily fell for again and again. But his brain told him it was just the same old shit all over again. The promise of more, the promise of something that would never actually come because Johnny Marr had made up his mind a long long time ago. In his future there was no place for Steven.
There never had been.
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I'm right back there: in the doorway of my old house as he explained shyly how he acquired my address and why he was there, I'm on stage with him, dancing wildly as he beams at me and people scream, and subsequently I'm backstage with him, sharing rushed touches and heated kisses, knowing any moment someone might come looking for us. It's almost too much. The overwhelming feelings of nostalgia and pain and regret and hurt and love.
Love.
I love him.