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“Know that sometimes we must break to be forged into who we were meant to be,” she said, streaks of violet flickering in her eyes like lightning cutting through the flecks of gold. Then she bent and pressed her lips to Tessa’s brow. “You will break, Tessalyn. Make sure you get back up and take what is yours.”
You’re too busy trying not to break so completely that you can’t be fixed. But that’s impossible. You always break. We help each other glue the pieces back together, but it’s never quite right. The pieces of yourself never quite fit back together the way they once did. Until eventually, you don’t remember what it was like to not feel cracked and scarred. Until eventually, you are just a shell of what you once were, but you know there’s no way to go back, so you just move forward,
“I want everything you have to give, and then I want more. I want every piece of you— every secret, every tempest raging in those stormy eyes. I want all your fear and all your pain, all your smiles and all your laughter. I want all your mornings and all your nights, all your days and months and years.”
“No one can steal your thunder if you are the storm,” he replied, stretching a hand toward her. “Be the fucking storm, Tessa.”
“Of course I defended you, Tessa!” he shouted. “You are still mine to protect, even if it does require me to constantly deal with the messes you create.”
She’d been trying to learn, trying to understand, trying to do what was expected of her. She’d been trying, and all he’d done was tell her it wasn’t enough. That she wasn’t enough. That he needed her to try harder. Needed her to be more. Needed her to give and give and give.
“Because I knew the next time I kissed you, it wouldn’t be enough. That I’d want more. That I’d want it all. Because you have become a need, little storm.”
