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She’s bewildering as much as she is beguiling. That pretty mouth of hers says one thing, but those ocean eyes say another. She pulls a knife from my back only to say she’ll bury another one there. She’s confusing, captivating, and we’re completely wrong for each other in all the right ways. She’s a flame, and I’m going to get burned. An ocean and I’m going to drown.
Fighting is my favorite waltz, and I know the steps by heart.
But in this moment, I don’t want to die – if only so I could hear him say my name one more time.
‘Remind me to make you smile like that again, when you aren’t dying, and I have all the time in the world to memorize it.’
‘If you die, I’m going to kill you.’
But when she crumpled, something inside of me cracked. The sight of her so weak, so vulnerable, so unlike herself, was enough to shatter a piece of the soul I’d forgotten I had.
I’ve never seen her look so haunted, and I’m shocked by how much I hate it.
If I am to be her enemy, I want it to be because she loathes herself for wanting me.
‘it’s cute that you said I could try to take your band from you.’
There is something about the quietness of the forest, the cover of the trees, that makes you feel safe enough to spill secrets. Something about knowing you might not see tomorrow that has you doing things you’ll only regret if you survive.
‘My soldiers don’t mean anything to me. They are expendable and easy to replace.’ His chest heaves, his eyes locked with mine. ‘So, yes, Gray. You aren’t one of my soldiers.’
She’s so stunning, yet so stubbornly oblivious to how the sunset behind dulls in comparison to the vibrance that is her.
We begin stepping in time to nothing but the sound of our own heartbeats and the crickets chirping around us.
‘Oh, you don’t hate me? So, what, every threat on my life is a declaration of love, then?’
I’d never thought about what my favorite color was before. It never seemed important. Not until I looked into a pair of ocean blue eyes and realized that perhaps drowning was a beautiful thing. Not until I looked into a pair of fiery blue eyes and realized that perhaps burning was a painless thing. Not until I looked into a pair of sky blue eyes and realized that perhaps falling was a peaceful thing. I’d never thought about what my favorite color was before because I hadn’t seen one that was worthy of the title. Until now, that is. ‘Blue,’ I say, my voice low.
‘I’m tougher than I look, I assure you. The strongest weapon a woman has at her disposal is that she is often underestimated,’ I answer with a small smile. ‘And I wield that all the time.’
‘A king who doesn’t know his people cannot be a king for his people.’
He’s looking at me like one would a painting – drinking in every detail, delighting in its originality, deeming it a work of art.
I huff out a laugh. ‘That is a terrible excuse.’ ‘That’s because I was giving you a compliment, not an excuse.’
Even monsters can have morals.
‘Never forget that your wit is a weapon to be wielded if only your mind is as sharp as your blade.’
Her. I only want to be deserving of her.
People aren’t born strong; they’re made that way.
‘I am content to listen to you talk for hours, but if you must speak about fruit, then at least pick one we both enjoy.’
Words can only damn if they are spoken.
I’m blinking, trying my best to escape the sleep that is desperately clawing at me, so I can continue memorizing his face a little longer.
I’ve never been looked at like it’s a privilege to be in my presence, an honor to hold my gaze, a gift to get a glimpse of me.
‘I don’t know that I ever lived before laying eyes on the likes of you.’
I wasn’t prepared for the laugh that escapes him. It’s a rich, beautiful sound I wish I had the time to commit to memory.
Nothing has ever dulled the light that is her. She’s my light.
She smiles the kind of sad smile one would think the sun does when setting. Warm and wonderful. Worn out and weary. Ready to say goodbye, to take a break from having to be a constant source of light. Relief at the prospect of rest.
How can a single moment mirror another in such a morbid way? Was it only yesterday that his lips formed those words with longing, and today with loathing?
