CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: User "RiverRamsden" recommended the song, "That's When I Love You" by Aslyn for Harry & Tracey this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Tracey's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to RiverRamsden - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen.
Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favorites, and reward you, as promised!
P.S. Unseenlibrarian – Once again, we all owe you a big thanks for your beta work on this story! We're your own private cheer squad here!
I have AN OFFICIAL BANNER for this story, thanks to user "gdgetgrl"! You can see it here: http:/ / s905 .photobucket .com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Eros%20Psyche (remove all spaces from that URL to make it load properly). It's the first image in this album (red background, lettering, images of characters). Isn't it absolutely beautiful? I'm so thrilled! Thank you gdgetgrl for such a wonderiffic gift! You put the "awe" in awesome (as my daughter likes to say).
PLEASE REVIEW! What did you think of this chapter?
CHAPTER SEVEN (#1): Harry & Tracey
This round, Harry gave her bunches of chrysanthemums. They decorated almost all of the flat surfaces in the room, minus the bottom tier where the large, futon-like pillows lay. Like the tulips, the mums came in a variety of shapes and colors – everything from wispy star-like patterns of red to full, mushroom-cap filled petals of white, to small, fluffy buttons of green. They were positively…
"Lovely," Tracey breathed in awe, rushing over to a bunch that covered an entire level of the Divination room, ringing it like a living carpet. She bent to run her fingers lightly over them, feeling the soft petals tickle her skin. "Oh, Harry, you are the most romantic man in the world!" She turned to him with a bright smile, and her heart caught in her throat at the sight of him watching her. He was a man at peace and clearly besotted with her. "I love you," she blurted, feeling a thrill as the words were allowed to finally pass her lips without being censored, as they had for so very long.
He embraced her and kissed her sweetly. "Love you, too, honey."
Merlin, she adored when he called her that!
"So, what does your card say this round?" he prompted, nuzzling her neck and causing things inside her to turn over and flutter about.
Flipping her card, she read it over his shoulder, trying to ignore the desire he was inflaming as his tongue snuck out and licked her throat:
"DEED: Order and share your favorite meal with your partner. Explain to them why you like every part."
Harry pulled away to read his card off to her:
"DEED: Your partner has to kiss your neck, ears, face and lips as you instruct them."
Instead of letting her momentary disappointment at the tameness of this round's actions affect her mood, Tracey instead tried to look for the silver lining: this could be a solid chance to talk and firm up her emotional connection to Harry, without the physical stuff getting too much in the way. Like two people who are dating should do, she reminded herself. Being in a relationship wasn't all about the sex, after all. She'd heard enough over the years from her roommates' experiences to know that if all you concentrated on was the bedroom stuff, and there wasn't anything else underneath to support the interest beyond that, things fizzled out as soon as you fell into a routine.
So, this would be a foundation-building round. Well, that was just fine with her. They'd still get a chance to snog a bit, too, it seemed.
"A meal, hmmm? Let me think now…" She concentrated. What was her favorite type of food?
Well, it was the beginning of summer already, and traditionally, her family got together during the season and had picnics. There was always great food at such events, so she picked out some of her most preferred to share with her boyfriend. With a thought, she conjured a small, round picnic table with matching chairs and two place settings. Upon the plates, she imagined her food selections, as well as the drink and the after-course. The food appeared with a small pop.
Tugging her man's hand, she led them over to the sumptuous banquet. They sat across from each other, dropping napkins into their laps, letting the wafting scents of the food entice their appetites.
Harry's smiling face took in the feast before him. "Hungry much?" he joked.
Tracey shrugged. "I haven't eaten since dinner, which was about eight hours ago. And picnic food is my favorite. It reminds me of spending time with my family."
Her boyfriend sat back in his chair, his face betraying serious interest now. "Tell me about them."
She'd forgotten: he didn't have any family, did he? Well, aside from the Weasleys and the Grangers taking him in as surrogates. His parents were dead, though – everyone knew how and why – and he'd had no siblings. She'd overheard him talk about the awful relatives that he stayed with to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, so she somewhat understood his situation. Perhaps it would bring him some comfort to know her family, then.
"Well, my family is a sizable one, but we're a mix on magical talent," she began, "and all of it is on my mother's side of the family. Dad's side is made up of Muggles – a brother and his parents – and they haven't a clue about the magical world. We have to hide who we are from them, per the Ministry's requirements, which means we don't see each other but once or twice a year for holidays." She made a face, as if to say, 'what can you do?" She didn't much like her Uncle Frank, honestly, who was really far-too into himself to spend much time with people, and her father's parents… well, her gram liked to pinch her cheeks too hard and her granda smelled like his denture cream and cigarettes, neither scent she could stomach for very long.
"During the summer though," Tracey continued, enthusiasm lacing her voice as she got to talk about her favorite side of the family, "mum's witch sisters - Aunt Fergie, Aunt Leticia, and Aunt Josie - and my mum's parents – who aren't magical, as the talent skipped them and the preceding three generations, which is why I say my mum's Muggle-born - like to have family picnics at least once a month. All of the cousins come, too – I have ten cousins between the three women, plus there's me and my two older, twin brothers, Kenny and Quinn. It's one big bash when we get together, filled with food and play and games. We've done it for as long as I can remember."
She waved a hand over her plate. "This is the type of food we typically eat at such gatherings. Usually the men tend the barbeque, while the ladies make all the side dishes. It's tradition." She held up the meat skewers with her fingers. "The yellowish one is curry chicken kebobs, the darker one is steak kebob with roasted veggies. My Aunt Josie's husband, Uncle Dreydonn, loves food from the East, and so these have become a regular staple at our events as a result. Try the curry chicken one with the mint yogurt sauce – it's the white stuff on the side there." She pointed to the salads next. "Cucumber, tomato and sweet onion salad with rice vinegar. One of Aunt Leticia's favorites. And this is half-roasted potatoes with fried onion, bacon and herbs – Aunt Josie's typical contribution." She lifted her glass of lemonade and took a sip, smiling in delight. "My Aunt Fergie makes the best homemade lemonade from these magical pink lemon trees that she'd grown from seedlings." She finally indicated the pudding portion of the meal. "And mum does dessert every time. This is one of my favorites from her: raspberry-apricot fool."
Harry dove in at her suggestion and made humming noises in delight as he tried each dish, and sipped from the drink. "It's brilliant - all of it. And it sounds like you have a smashing time together." He took another gulp of the lemonade and smiled. "Way better than pumpkin juice." Scooping up another forkful of potatoes, he paused and looked at her. "Tell me about your brothers."
Tracey finished chewing the steak kebab, and took a drink to wash it down. "They're seven years older than me, and Kenny's already married - to a witch. They have a two year old son, Lincoln. Quinn's not married, but then I wouldn't expect he'd be." She picked up a chicken skewer with her fingers.
"Why not?" Harry asked out of sheer curiosity.
She shrugged again. "He's a hermaphrodite."
Lips twitching, she watched Harry falter for a moment, clearly taken aback by such a blunt, unusual comment. He stared across the table at her in complete silence, assessing her through sharp, green eyes. After all, what do you say to such a thing?
"You made that up to yank my chain," he finally determined, a smirk crawling up the side of his cheek.
Unable to hold back any longer, a lively giggle erupted from between her lips. "Guilty!" She took another sip of her drink. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."
He raised a dark eyebrow at her and grinned. "I'm starting to wonder if maybe the Sorting Hat did place you in the right House after all."
Eyes widening at that pronouncement, Tracey tilted her head, curious as to his reasoning. "Why would you say that?"
If he'd still worn glasses, he'd be looking at her over the rims, she knew by the way he dropped his chin and looked at her with clear skepticism. "You intentionally add a swing to your hips when you walk by me, you blurt out the most shocking of things just to get a reaction from me, and your eyes are constantly checking out my package in my shorts, but only when you think I'm not looking. You're sneaky, honey – a Slytherin by training, if not by birth."
Tracey laughed, feeling her cheeks bloom with fire. Harry snickered at her obvious embarrassment at being called out. "Tell me more about your family life. What was it like growing up with two older brothers – I assume they're wizards?"
She nodded, thankful for the reprieve. She really hadn't known he'd caught her gawking at his… package (as he'd so eloquently put it). How utterly embarrassing! "Yes, they're seven years older than me, so by the time I got my Hogwarts letter, they were already graduated by a year and working as Hit Wizards together. The age gap wasn't a factor though. We've always been close. They helped my mum and dad and me pick my True Wizarding Name, in fact."
He nibbled on the curry chicken for a bit and therefore, it took a good minute or so before she noticed the strained silence in the room. Glancing up as she licked her fingers, she caught Harry's confused expression. "What is it?" she asked, unsure if she'd said something wrong.
Harry dabbed his mouth with his napkin politely, and cleared his throat. "What's a 'True Wizarding Name'?"
It took Tracey several seconds to process his question. Everyone knew about a TWN - didn't they? "You know, it's your unique wizarding name," she explained, "The key, in effect, to your magical soul. Like a Muggle Christening name, but only you and your paren-" Abruptly, she stopped herself from saying any more, realizing in a flash of insight why he didn't know about such a fundamental part of being a wizard.
"You and your parents know," he finished for her, looking deflated all of the sudden. He put his fork to the side and sat back in his chair. "So, what is it, exactly?"
Feeling as if she'd just kicked a puppy or cut down the last tree in a forest, Tracey swallowed her pity, knowing Harry wouldn't appreciate it. His parents, she knew from watching him all these years, were a big sore spot for him. Sure, he had his godfather, Sirius Black, to look out for him (now that the charges against the man had been dropped and he was free), but a surrogate wasn't the same as the real thing, she supposed. And his parents had died rather tragically when he'd been a baby, before there could be any explanations…
"When a wizard or witch turns eleven, typically there's a special ceremony that occurs," she explained.
"Wait," Harry interrupted. "What's so special about turning eleven? That's the same age you get your school letter. Is eleven significant or something?"
Tracey nodded. "Oh, yes. In ancient days, there were ages that were seen as auspicious milestones. For example, if a child lived to the age of five, then that meant it would probably survive through youth, as the first five years of a baby's life are the most touch-and-go, health-wise. In a wizarding family, a ceremony is typically held at this age. If a child made it to eleven – ten plus one – it was the belief that they had defeated the ills of youth and would probably survive through adolescence as well. We have another ceremony to mark the achievement. If they survived to seventeen – fifteen plus two – it meant that they had successfully navigated all of the years of 'danger' for children, and passed into the realm of adulthood. Our final coming-of-age ceremony happens at this time, and a wizard or witch comes into their full powers finally."
"Five year increments, with an additional year added at every half-decade," Harry murmured to himself, lifting a kebab and absently chewing on it. "Interesting."
Tracey shrugged. "It's based on Arithmancy."
"So, what's the big deal about a True Wizarding Name, then?" he asked. "If it's no different from a Baptism ceremony's choice of giving a kid a Saint's name, then why's it so secret?
Tracey bit her lip. Apparently, she hadn't done a good enough job explaining. "It's more than that. At age five, the ceremony that's undertaken requires wizarding parents to check their child for magical potential. If he or she isn't a Squib, their magic is sealed away by the parents to prevent it from accidentally harming others. That sealing is done by binding the magic up under a special 'password' – a True Wizarding Name. Only the parents know the name at that time."
Harry considered that with clear uneasiness. "What happens if the parents die? Is the wizard or witch completely unable to access their powers then?"
She shook her head. "At eleven, the sealing breaks on its own. The spell only lasts the six years – through the formative childhood years, because kids lose control of their powers too easily. They lack all ability to control magic properly, so it's up to the parents to make sure that doesn't happen. Hence the need for a ceremony at age eleven – to reaffirm a partial block on powers." She took a sip of lemonade to quench her drying mouth. "Eleven is considered the start of puberty – another dangerous time. All those hormones rioting around inside can make magic unstable. That's why they send us off to school at that age – to teach us control."
"So, the ceremony is meant to do what exactly?" Harry asked, his face a mask of confusion, interest and a touch of anger. "Threaten the kid that if they don't behave, mum and dad will use this True Wizarding Name against them? Shut them down permanently or something?"
Tracey shrugged. "You could look at it that way, I suppose. My parents never used it to threaten me, though. For my family, a TWN is a sacred thing, not to be abused. They just told me it was my first adult lesson in responsibility; keeping my name safe was a personal test in diligence, my mum insisted. I guess it could also serve as a warning not to break the law, though. It works a lot like the Imperius Curse – forcing a witch or wizard into a state of compliance."
Harry was quiet for a few minutes, soaking in the idea, finishing off his lemonade in a big swig. "Why didn't anyone use it on Voldemort to stop him during the war?"
Tracey winced as the dark wizard's forbidden name was spoken aloud. "I… I honestly don't know, Harry. Maybe no one was alive who knew his TWN at the time he rose to power. It's the greatest secret a witch or wizard possesses, so it would be unlikely his parents would have written it down."
"And the Ministry has no record of a person's TWN?" he asked, and she could tell by the way his eyes narrowed and his focus turned inward, that there was a world of thoughts whirling through his head just then.
She shook her head. "It's between the parents and the child only. A lot of wizard and witches don't even tell their spouses, just in case of… you know… divorce."
Her boyfriend took a deep breath. "What about those whose parents died before they were five? Or Muggle-borns? They wouldn't have a TWN, would they?"
Tracey knew about the latter from her mum explaining her own experiences. "If the witch or wizard is Muggle-born, they don't get a TWN until after they get their school acceptance letter, and someone from the Ministry is assigned and sent to explain all things magic to the parents. I'm betting that's what happened in your friend, Miss Granger's, case. She probably didn't do her first wizarding ceremony until the summer before she left for Hogwarts the first time, and she probably helped pick her own name."
"How would she have been able to bind it, though?" Harry asked, finding the hole in the example, having finished off his plate and reaching for the dessert, digging in with enthusiasm. "She didn't get a wand until after that, and she wouldn't have had that kind of magical ability anyway, right?"
Deciding that she was finished with her dinner portion of the meal, too, Tracey picked up her raspberry-apricot fool and collected some cream on the tip of her spoon. "The Ministry contact is assigned to a Muggle-born for the whole summer. That witch or wizard would have helped her get into Diagon Alley to get her money exchanged at Gringotts and pick up her wand and school supplies. I bet that person helped her with the ceremony, too." She licked the white, frothy sugar cream off the spoon with a hum of delight. "The ceremony's a requirement before any student can start school, so she had to have gone through with it."
"McGonagall," Harry excitedly snapped his fingers in understanding. "She said Professor McGonagall had been the one to come to talk to her parents and had helped her then. It makes sense." He frowned suddenly. "I didn't go through the ceremony, though. Why didn't I have to go through it? I've never even heard of a TWN until now."
Tracey had figured as much from the discussion. She swallowed her mouthful of yummy whipped fruit and cream mix before answering. "I'm not sure. Who came to talk to you about Hogwarts that summer?"
Harry relayed the events of that awful time to her – how his uncle and aunt had conspired to keep the letters from him, and how they'd even tried to take him and run from it all, but Hagrid had tracked them down.
"Bloody hell, Hagrid…"
He was silent as he pondered some weighty thought for half a minute more, finishing off his pudding and setting the empty dish aside.
"He can't do magic – legally, that is," he explained. "He couldn't have done the ceremony with me, and there wasn't anyone else adult enough until after I arrived here at school. But Dumbledore could have at any time…"
Tracey took another spoonful of pudding as she considered that. "Maybe the Headmaster had a specific reason for not wanting your powers locked away? You should ask him after the game."
Her wizard looked up at her quickly – and a peculiar darkness moved through his gaze. Startled, Tracey dropped her spoon into her lap, where it bounced and fell to the floor with a steely clang. Putting down the dessert glass, she nervously rubbed her hand over the tops of her thighs, watching him warily. What was going on? Why was Harry angry?
When his chair scraped against the stone floor and he made his feet, she tensed and felt her breath squeeze out of her. He came around the table and stopped rather abruptly before her, his emerald gaze fathomless. Slowly, he extended his hand to her. "Come lie down with me," he tilted his chin towards the pile of pillows on the floor. "I… need to hold you right now."
Her hand moved on its own towards his, and with a small tug, she was out of her chair and in his arms. Locking his gaze onto hers, he walked her backwards towards the pile, and then with an easy move, dropped her down onto the soft mound, following after. He knelt one leg beside her, the other between her calves, careful of her dress, and slowly lowered himself onto an elbow, looming slightly over her as she lay back.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, unsure if it was wise to disturb his mood, still finding her way around this relationship, with no experience to call upon to aid in the effort.
His palm swept up her cheek, touching her with a softness that belied the ferocity in his stare. A thumb parted her lips with slight pressure on her jaw. "Remember when I told you earlier that sometimes bad thoughts enter my mind?" Hesitantly, she nodded. "Now is one of those times. I'm angry and I'm bitter. I feel cheated." His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard. "I never got to celebrate anything with my parents. I almost didn't get to come to Hogwarts because of my aunt and uncle. And now it seems I wasn't even given the chance to have a True Wizarding Name for some reason I can't understand, denied by a man I trusted." He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. "I wish… sometimes, I wish I had a Time-Turner and could go back and change everything."
His voice was choked; she knew he was fighting tears. Harry was not one to feel sorry for himself, she knew, but she also understood that he denied these feelings too much. She suspected that was the reason for his darker side.
She didn't voice the selfish fear that leapt into her mind at his revelation – specifically, that if he changed the past, they might not end up together. It was such a small, trivial thing in comparison to having his parents back, not to have had to live with his awful relatives for the majority of his life, and to have been raised in the proper traditions of other wizards. Her thought was unworthy of her deeper feelings for him, so she shoved it away, ashamed at thinking only of herself at a time like this. What Harry needed from his partner was understanding, support, and hope. She would offer him that, for as long as he allowed her to do so.
"Would you… do you want a special wizarding name?" she gently spoke, letting her fingers run through his thick, black hair, the idea popping from her mouth before she could censor it. "It shouldn't matter that you're almost eighteen to get one. The TWN is a life-long bond. It doesn't go away when one reaches adulthood – only the restrictive binding by the parents does. I bet there have been plenty of others in the past who haven't gotten one until later in life. And I know how the ceremony works, having gone through it. We could do it together. I could be the one to bind it to you, and you could bind me to an Unbreakable Vow never to reveal the name to another."
He froze between one breath and the next.
Fearful she'd said the wrong thing, Tracey backpedaled. "Er… I'm sorry. That was a tactless offer, wasn't it? Just forget-"
"You'd give me that?" he interrupted her, raising his cheek from her breast. The light of optimism twinkled in his eyes. "You'd take a Vow like that for me?"
She nodded without hesitation. "If it would make you happy." Feathering his cheek with her fingers, she smiled for him, wanting to lighten his sorrow a bit. "I love you, Harry. I'll do anything for you."
His lids slowly lowered with seductive heat as he focused on her bottom lip, long, black lashes fanning out and capturing her attention. His thumb rubbed across her mouth again. "You make me happy, honey." He leaned down and reverently pressed his lips to hers, pulling softly. "How did this-" He grasped her hand and put it to his quickly-beating heart. "-happen so fast? It's like..."
"…magic," she whispered the answer, and wrapped her free hand around his neck, pulling him down so her lips could mate his again.
They kissed for long minutes, and then Harry pulled off, sat up a bit and unbuttoned his shirt, shucking it from his shoulders and tossing it aside. Reclaiming his spot, he turned his head, baring his neck to her. "My card says I get to direct your mouth," he reminded her of the game. "Kiss me here."
Latching her lips onto his neck, Tracey kissed, adding a lick for good measure. Against her leg, Harry grew rock-hard under his trousers and he groaned, erotically rubbing his pelvis against her. "Bite me there, honey. Leave a mark on me."
Her teeth sunk into the sensitive skin at the bend where his throat met his shoulder, and she suckled hard, giving him her first ever love bite. He gasped, jerking in her arms, shuddering from the intense cherishing of such an erotic spot. "Yeah, keep going, bite harder!" She complied, careful not to break skin, but giving him what he wished for most.
His fingers entwined in her hair, pulling through the strands to cradle her face. "Perfect," he murmured, and carefully pulled her off. Turning his head the opposite way, he encouraged her to mirror what she'd just done, and she gave him all of the loving attention she was capable of giving, wanting to please him.
Humming in pleasure, he changed the angle again, tilting his head down so that his mouth hovered over hers. "Kiss me like you want to eat me alive," he huskily bid.
She did, attacking his lips with an unrestrained fervor, need blossoming within her, growing exponentially with each pull of skin, each thrust of her tongue. Harry moaned, thoroughly enchanted by her efforts.
His right hand followed the curve of her body, stopping just once to entice her left breast before flowing over her hip. He began gathering the fabric of her dress up, pulling it so that her thigh was bared, and then he was slipping under the band of her knicks and touching her again. Finding her damp and desperate, he slid two fingers between her fleshy seam and stroked up and down, wetly flicking her clitoris on each pass.
Lost completely to sensation, Tracey gave into her wanton need and reached for his belt buckle, unclasping it, popping the button on his slacks and unzipping him.
"Careful," he warned her, his voice a low growl. "I want in you. I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now." His breath came in tiny pants as he struggled with his desires. "Let me make you come this way. I can hold off."
"But I want to give you pleasure, too," she countered, her fingers resting over his bulge, unmoving.
He shook his head. "You are, but if you take me out and touch me, I'm not going to be able to stop myself. It'll be hard and rushed because we're almost out of time, and honey… we're not doing it that way your first time." He kissed her lovingly. "I want to make love to you right." He wiggled his fingers over her little pearl again. "This round, you kiss me, and I'll make you come, all right?"
When she hesitated, not liking that plan one bit, desperate to touch him au natural again, he put his forehead to hers. "Please, just agree, Trace."
Reluctantly, she nodded her head. "Okay, Harry. I trust you, though, just so you know."
He sighed in relief and didn't respond to her statement, instead closing the gap between their lips and taking her kiss again. His fingers continued their stimulation between her thighs, until, with a final cry, she orgasmed for him once more.
Floating on clouds as she lay in his arms after, she continued to press small kisses along his hairline and temple and cheek as she could reach, punctuating each kiss with an "I love you," or an "I can't wait until I'm yours," and even once with a "you're getting heavy, you know." At that, his magnificent shoulders flexed and he pushed himself off of her, regaining his knees just as the chimes rang out.
He helped her up at the same time as he stood to his full height, and then took her into his embrace, chivalrously trying not to press his still-erect member against her. "If you were serious, I'd like to take you up on the offer of coming up with and binding me to a True Wizarding Name. I think it's something I'd like to do to honor the memory of my parents and their traditions."
Joy bubbling from her heart, Tracey threw her arms about her boyfriend's neck and hugged him tightly. "Yes, I'd love to help you!"
He kissed her one more time before they walked hand-in-hand to the door. "Right, so we can talk more about it next round, when no one's nearby to hear," she said softly as they exited the room. "It's a secret, remember."
Just before they hit the couches, Harry swung her around and back into a powerful, all-encompassing hug. "I love you, Tracey," he murmured against her ear. "Thank you for sharing a little of your family with me. I enjoyed all of it."
Nuzzling against his neck, she sighed in contentment. "You're welcome. And Harry, you make me happy, too."
TO BE CONTINUED…
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Musical Selection for this Chapter: "That's When I Love You" by Aslyn. Lyrics are as follows...
When you have to look away...
When you dont have much to say...
Thats when I love you.
I love you, just that way.
To hear you stumble when you speak...
Or see you walk with two left feet...
Thats when I love you.
I love you, endlessly.
And when your mad 'cause you lost a game...
Forget Im waiting in the rain...
Baby, i love you.
I love you, anyway
Here's my promise made tonight:
You can count on me for life.
That's when I love you.
When nothing you do can change my mind.
The more I learn, The more I love...
The more my heart cant get enough!
That's when I love you,
When I love you no matter what!
So when you turn to hide your eyes,
Cause the movie it made you cry...
That's when I love you.
I love you a little more each time.
And when you can't quite match your clothes...
Or when you laugh at your own jokes...
That's when I love you.
I love you, more than you'll know.
And when you forget that we had a date...
Or that look that you get when you show up late...
Baby, I love you.
I love you, anyway.
Here's my promise made tonight:
You can count on me for life.
That's when I love you.
When nothing you do can change my mind.
The more I learn, The more I love...
The more my heart cant get enough!
That's when I love you,
When I love you no matter what!
That's when I love you.
When nothing, baby -
Nothing you do could change my mind...
The more I learn, The more I love.
The more my heart cant get enough!
That's when I love you -
When I love you no matter what!
No matter what.