You ought to know better than to get involved. You should know by now to stay away from all that alien stuff. You know she's got baggage...baggage with a capital M.

You should know better.

But...

Her laugh is like the tinkling of crystal.
High, lilting, like a song.
Girlish, full of glee.

You can remember a time when she didn't laugh, when her voice was hard, when anger and duty lowered the timbre, made it crisp and dry.

Whenever she laughs, your heart surges, your stomach plunges, because you know that you are the one that brought that laugh out of its hibernation.

You would give anything to hear her laugh echo through your soul forever. And you should know better.

But...

Her cough is like a warm summer's breeze.
Light, gentle, like a baby's sigh.
Feminine, full of ease.

You can remember a time when the steady tick of the clock in the living room was what lulled you to sleep. Now you lay awake listening for the cough that comes every night just before she falls asleep.

You know you should clean the dust out of your room, but the sound of her cough, of her nearness, comforts you, makes you smile and feel warm inside and eases you to sleep.

You would give anything to hear her cough calm you to sleep forever. And you should know better.

You really ought to know better.

But...

You love her.