Every Breath After: Part One (Lost Boys, #3)

by Jessie Walker

that’s what everyone says.

Ugh, the way jessie is SHOWING us how much kids pay attention when adults talk...especially about them.

“She’s the love of my life.” Yeah, well, you’re mine, Mason. So fuck us both I guess.

uuuuuuugh my HEART

My sister rolls her eyes, tipping her head side to side as she does what she’s told.

This sort of little mannerism detail is fucking chefs kiss. Jesse ily for these moments

“Watch this.” He keeps playing when I stop. Removing the guitar strap from around my neck, I hold the instrument out to Waylon. He stares down at it. I hand him the pick. “Go ahead. I know you want to.” Frowning, he looks over at Shawn, and my chest squeezes as I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll do… Steeling myself for how huge this feels. He seems to sense it too. How big of a deal it is. But rather than draw attention to it, and try to get me to explain why I’m suddenly okay with this—music, playing again… He takes the guitar, and throws the red strap around his neck.

This moment is written perfectly

Twisting to the side, I flick off the lamp just as the familiar flipping of pages sound fills the room as the Marvel logo comes across the screen.

Honesty Jessie. Unparalleled ability to transport me so fucking deeply into a moment with things the this

“Shut up. Just. Shut. Up.”

The pure anguish and utter relief of this moment. I literally feel sick

How do I make you believe the sober truth about drunken lies

Ooff

This maze has no left side

My heart hurts

the center cannot hold.’

Tattoo?

“You did?” I murmur almost soundlessly. And yet he must hear it, because his words drop off immediately. My chin quivers, and this time it has nothing to do with the cold. His face scrunches up when he lifts it, and he shakes his head, drilling his gaze right into me. “Of course I did.” Oh.

I.cant.handle.the.pain!

“Some people go years, lucky enough to never have to go through anything like we have. And then some people are just knocked on their ass over and over and over again. So long as one exists, the other will too. It’s just the way things go.”

I am the latter and this just hit real fucking hard

We’re chest to chest. Nose to nose. And everything’s suddenly brighter. Louder. “Close your eyes.” So I do. “It’ll be whatever eventually,” he mutters, “but for now…right now…” I sense him lean up, stopping only a hairsbreadth away from my lips. His breaths are hot on my face, smelling of those cinnamon mints he loves so much and something sweeter—the Pepsi he was drinking before. “Right now, I can’t stand the thought of never kissing you again,” he confesses softly. And that crumbling feeling inside me is back,

And I’m pretending like I’m not nervous as shit, crawling on my knees to the boy curled up against the wall, darting petrified looks all around the room. He’s not that scared boy now—the one I was relieved to be able to kiss, if only to prove something to him—to reassure him. Relieved it got to be me…

As far as I’m concerned, this is it—this is what it truly is like to kiss Jeremy Montgomery, my shy, stubborn boy with his fiercely protected heart; the boy who gave me back the stars…the angels…

“That’s why,” he whispers near-inaudibly, his lips hardly moving. Frowning, I shake my head. What⁠— His lip ticks up curiously, ruefully, and he says, “I can almost believe…” It

Sure about that?

God i hope this phrase makes it into part 2

After all, “Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” (Cesar A. Cruz)

Mic. Fucking. Drop.