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My blood is only useful if it can manage to stay inside my body. My mind is only useful if it can manage to not get lost. My heart is only useful if it can manage to not get broken. Well, it seems I’ve become utterly useless, then.
“Tell me, darling, do you think of me often?” His voice is a murmur, as if his lips were pressed against my ear. I shiver, knowing exactly what that feels like. If he knows I’m here then why hasn’t he— “Do I haunt your dreams, plague your thoughts, like you do mine?”
“It’s a good thing you’re not here,” he says softly, a tone I never thought I’d hear from him again. “Because I still haven’t found my courage.”
Death is familiar to me, both friend and foe, and far too frequent in my life. But for her, Death is devastation, no matter its victim.
And where there are bets, there is money to be won. And where there is money to be won, there is money to be stolen.
She’s a phantom in human form. Like trying to clutch the wind in your fist, unable to see it even while feeling it slip between your fingers.
If she fights for nothing, she lives for death.
“What?” I grind out. She snorts. “Possessive, are we?” “I chained you to me. What do you think?”
“You going to kiss me, Gray, or just continue admiring what you see?” he murmurs, now running a thumb over my bottom lip. “Still contemplating drowning you, actually.” My voice is breathy, my own fingers wandering over the curve of his jaw. “Oh, darling, I already am.” His lips inch closer to mine, teasing me. “And I’m begging you to let me breathe you in.” I smile slyly. “I thought you never begged?” “I’m getting used to it when it comes to you.” And then his hand slips behind my neck to pull my lips toward his.
“You’re not just a mission to me. You’re not just another enemy for me to find. You’re something even more terrifying.” Her voice is little more than a whisper. “And what is that?” “A need.”
A weapon is only deadly if it’s used. And a bow only kills if I fire the arrow for it.
