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I’m of the firm belief that collecting books and reading books are separate hobbies anyway.
“No, it’s important to you. If we can’t love the things significant to us without guilt, then what can we love? Your tattoo is important because you think it is. And that’s all that matters.”
“God, you’re like my star in the sky, Wendy.” “Your star?” “My North Star. Always showing me the direction I should travel. I’ve never met someone like you before.”
“I’d let you break me, Wendy Bird,” Jasper whispers gruffly. “And I’d thank God every single day for the guilt that followed if it meant I could keep you for myself.”
“You want me? Then, come and get me, Captain.” With those final words, I leap off Deadman’s Drop. And the last thing I see before plunging into the deep is Jasper diving after me.
I’m in love with him. I’ve fallen in love with Jasper. And I wish I hadn’t.
It’s never been Peter or Jasper. It’s always just been Jasper. Because I’d choose him every time. In any reality. In any fantasy. In every fairy tale.
