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“What separates monsters from good men is only a matter of perspective. In your eyes, I’m a sick fuck for what I’ve done to you. But I, on the other hand, see you as a parasite.”
“Allow me to caution you, Miss Vespertine. You are a confused moth dancing about a wild flame. Blind to the incomprehensible danger of your curiosities.”
“Stay out of trouble, Curious Moth,” he said, as he strode for the door. Curious Moth. A nickname. A fitting one, too, given the fact that I had no intentions of avoiding the flame.
“That is the tragedy of women, isn’t it? We deny ourselves beauty for the sake of misleading men.”
“The wealthy possess an insatiable appetite for the rare and priceless. They stare because you’re the only thing worth staring at.”
Calling her beautiful was like calling the sun lukewarm. She’d blazed like the hottest part of a flame in that dress. And fuck me, I’d felt the heat.
“And so the moth befriended the flame.”
“Says who? I happen to get very attached to my fictional boyfriends.” Yet another frown. “Boyfriends?” “I read a lot.”
“Under different circumstances …”
“And I might’ve let you.”
“Panties are for the modest,”
She was the warmth of the sun on a cold and rotting corpse. The first breath after a lifetime of death.
He was moody, like rainy days and bitter coffee. Sensual whispers in dark corners and the slow burn of fine whiskey.
“Jealousy is a callow schoolboy’s emotion that ends in hard feelings and bloody noses. What I feel for you, Miss Vespertine, would destroy lives.”
“That I would kill for you without a beat of hesitation, or remorse. And yet, at the same time, I could be reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash without you. I’m weak for you, Lilia.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You and I? This? There’s no escaping it. Doesn’t matter how fast you run, or how far you get, I will always be inside you just like this. In your bones and in your blood and in your head. It doesn’t matter what you tell the universe–what secrets you spill. Nothing can change what we are, what we’ve become.”
