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My daddy, Nicholas Weaver, is my best friend.
“The…weak…a-are…meat. The s-strong…eat.”
The last thing I see before the world goes black stays with me forever.
“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re always the first thing I think about. Gotta protect what’s mine, baby.”
I dislike it when she’s sad or hurt. It’s even more painful than if they were my own feelings. I can brush those off, treat them efficiently and push them to the background.
Naomi’s. I wish I could take away her feelings and treat them as my own so that she’s no longer hurting.
Is that…what empathy f...
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LOLLLL
“Yes, you. If it were up to me, things wouldn’t have started with a bet. But maybe they had to.”
“You didn’t even know I existed before we bumped into each other that time.” “Of course I did.”
“Then how do you think I figured out all those tidbits about you? Such as your love for metal music or your sarcastic tendencies?”
“They didn’t need to. I was already watching you.”
“I watched you, baby. For three years.”
Two streaks paint her blushed cheeks as she stares at the bleak sky.
There’s something haunting about the look in her eyes, a wretchedness of sorts.
I’ve never seen anyone look as heartbreakingly beautiful when they cry as she does right now.
I want to ask her how it’s possible to look like a fucking angel I don’t believe in while she’s both crying and smiling.
Better yet, I want to be the reason why she has that expression on her face. Haunted happiness.
And I’ll make sure to keep an eye on her from now on. If only to see her cry-smile again. Or maybe just smile. Or just cry. As long as I see her.
“Nothing is stupid about you, Nao.”
You’re stuck with me, baby.”
“I’m just playing with you, Tsundere.”
“I wouldn’t leave you alone after I waited three years.”
“You don’t have to, Tsundere. I watched you long enough to recognize your hot and cold attitude.”
“I can’t believe you watched me for three years and I didn’t notice anything.”
“That someone was you. It was a random show of compassion,
Maybe all of those things led to how we got together.”
“Sebastian…please, baby…please open your eyes, please…I can’t…I can’t live without you anymore. I don’t want to imagine it, so please…please stay with me…”
“Marry…me.”
“When…we get out…of here. Marry…me.”
This is crazy. We’...
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She is the meaning.
She wanted me because of who I am. The imperfect, flawed monster.
“I love you, Sebastian,” she murmurs so low, I can barely hear her.
For the first time since my parents’ deaths, bitter moisture gathers in the corners of my eyes.
“You’ll agree to our terms and adopt your real name. Naomi Hitori.”
“My girl.”
“She’s there… They have her… Fuck! They have her, Nate…” I try to straighten up again. “L-let me talk to the police so they can find her…”
don’t need you.” “But I need you.”
“Reality.”
Naomi just used her safe word and completely erased me from her world as if I never fucking existed.
SEVEN YEARS LATER
Possessing pictures of Prince Weaver is as rare as witnessing a bloody shooting star.
Daniel and Knox are both English and came to the States after they graduated high school. They studied law at Harvard, fucked half the female population, and are currently plotting to conquer the other half.
They’re also Asher’s acquaintances through Aiden King, a mutual friend from England from when my childhood friend studied in Oxford.
We met after I joined Weaver & Shaw, Nate’s law firm that he founded with his best friend/ex-rival, Kingsley Shaw.
I lost a part of my soul seven years ago and I’ve never managed to get it back.
“You know how protective he is of his little prince.”
The face that I picture when I take shooting fucking lessons.
Her face is almost the same—petite,
It’s her. Naomi. The one who broke me. Broke us. Now, it’s time I do the same.
