[Strange hadn't even really thought about the implications of what he'd said, not fully. It wasn't as if the word had just leaped out either, he knew what he meant when he was saying it. It was the only word that could come close to conveying what he was feeling. And he wanted her to know, wanted her to really understand why he would work so hard to always come back to her and do everything he could.

Because he loved her. He loved this complicated, amazing, difficult, beautiful woman in a way that he didn't even entirely understand. And maybe it was too early to tell her that or maybe it would scare her off- though if his absence hadn't scared her off then he doubted this will.]

I do. I love you so much. And not just because you're the only one that seems to even want to put up with me.