Over the course of just a month, I would be colonised by James on a molecular level, and my personality would mould around his wherever there was space to do so.

I simply cannot abide the smell of Subway sandwiches I’ve smelled fresh bread and frankly, that’s not what bread smells like “Sandwich artists.” Get a grip!

It was easy, now that I understood passion properly, to see why you would move heaven and earth to secure it.

I was paranoid the way only people of my generation are paranoid, that I was about to be publicly derided by an unseen, online mass for ideological crimes committed as a teenager. I had thought I was always a feminist.

I wanted future nostalgia, a rear-view, years-old fondness for something that had literally just happened.

The truth was, as always, somewhere in-between.

He had eyes and lips and a nose but I felt like they had all been made by the Bauhaus, obsessively streamlined to perform a function and no more.