It's not. It's not so strange. It used to be my home. I --
*finds himself kissing you again (and again) and his heart is fluttering furiously within his chest as his mind fumbles along, uncertain as to the next best course of action* *glides his hand up to clasp the side of your throat as he presses his lips to your cheek, breathing against your skin, staring wildly into space because he does not know what he is doing* This was my home.