“Why do you call me Little Sparrow?” I question, chewing on my bottom lip. “Mmm?” he mumbles, clearly half asleep. I don’t repeat the question, instead waiting him out, and deciding if he doesn’t answer the question then maybe I’m better off not knowing. At least for tonight. Eventually he asks in a husky voice, “Do you know what sparrows symbolize?” “No?” “They represent pleasure and happiness. They are all about finding joy in the little things in life.” I frown, unsure how that relates to me. “And I’m your sparrow?” He kisses the top of my head, pulling me tighter against him as he murmurs. “You’re my sparrow.”