More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Like a paper cut—a tiny sting that meant nothing more than I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive.
as if even amid the crush, his name from Andrew’s lips would always be heard.
Oh that doesn’t sound foreboding or anything.
Lana and Thomas should’ve been friends, what with the way they were all teeth and knives out. Except Lana was a cold scalpel, and Thomas was a wild machete with blazing emotions he’d never learned how to moderate properly.
The noise from the dining hall turned muddy the farther he walked,
“I can handle you,” Andrew said.
These twins. Adult books. Handle you. No fucking wonder Thomas stuck around if those are the first things they said to him.
“I think someday you’ll hate me.” Thomas’s voice stretched with a loneliness Andrew had never heard before. “You’ll cut me open and find a garden of rot where my heart should be.”
“When I cut you open,” Andrew finally said, “all I’ll find is that we match.”
Oh my fucking god I’m in love with them
It was strange, Andrew thought, how when something moved in the dark, everyone’s first instinct was to go inside and hide under the covers. As if monsters couldn’t open doors and crawl into bed with you.
To write something nice, he’d need something nice to say. But his ribs were a cage for monsters and they cut their teeth on his bones.
What were twins, if not one to shout and one to whisper?
“Just know anyone’s welcome. Queer, straight, questioning.”
She’s beating you to death with that olive branch, friend. You need to take it.
Betrayal. When Thomas finally spoke, he sounded calm and terrible. “I’m walking away from you now. And I’m not coming back.”
What? No. We just got here. Don’t break up.
He should have been beautiful, but a foulness sat beneath each smug grin.
owed it to Thomas. Because Thomas, beautiful and harrowed and magical, was falling apart.
He could cut me to bloody pieces if he wanted. Andrew hated the way he loved those words.
The night pressed close to Andrew’s spine, cool hands sliding up his sweater and over his ribs. It seemed fascinated with the concept of his beating pulse, and it left inky fingerprints along his collarbone. If it asked to kiss him, he thought he would say yes.
October arrived with cold teeth sharp enough to split bone.
What are you going to do when there’s snow?
From the corner of his eye, Andrew saw the tips of antlers jutting out of bleeding skin, a body smeared in the muck of the forest.
This story is just as good as everyone said it was.
“I made this.” Thomas’s voice came thin and broken. “I have to stop them.”
Why doesn’t anyone think Andrew made them because he wrote them?
Not usual for someone who always worshipped cozy things like cardigans and hot chocolate,
Okay but what if it’s dove? What if she loves Thomas and he doesn’t love her and she’s making it happen because if Andrew is dead and Thomas’ parents are dead then she can have Thomas.
Me, the prince with the sword,
You’re not the prince bud.
He hadn’t needed to hit Thomas twice. But he had.
Fuck I love them.
He needed Thomas, needed their lungs sewn inside each other so he could remember how to breathe.
“I told a story.” Andrew gripped Thomas like he’d never let go. “I killed them with ink.”
Told you.
I’m not making up the rules, okay? It is what it is.”
Just kiss and it’ll all be over. Your suffering over being gay for each other is literally killing people.
cut out a heart—
Get a deer.
“When school went back this year,” Dove said slowly, “Thomas was arrested for murdering his parents.”
WHAT?!
“That thing was not Dove because Dove is dead.”
WHAT WHAT?!
his sister being dead.
Omg. It is dove. Just not in the way I thought.
May this one haunt you.
OH FUCK YOU?! WHAT DOES JT ALL MEAN?!?!?!?!?!?
