He smiled at her gently, moving her hair from her eyes, pleased at the slight pinkness in her cheeks. "Never," he said almost reverently. It was strange to him, that of all the times that Emma had told him that love was the ultimate gift, that he would never be truly happy until he had it himself, he had never believed it. Then again, up until two years ago, he was under the impression that Emma was going to end up setting him up with someone that she believed him to be suited with and he was going to ruin her perfect streak. It really was, though. A gift that he enjoyed receiving, but more often giving to her.
"Maybe I will," he said halfheartedly, sighing softly at her lips on his jaw. "But at least I'll die happy."