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Vulnerability isn’t an option for those who have licked kindness and humanity off knives, but our blades are pointed at the same enemy, and his eyes hold no judgment.
“You don’t need to surprise me with knives, angel. I’ll bleed for you if you ask nicely.”
I wonder what it would be like to glide through the world instead of braving it every time I left my home.
“We’ve become deeper than power. You’ve driven me to madness. You haunt me while I sleep and you’re there when I wake. Your presence is agonizing and yet I’ll beg for the pain if it means I can have a moment with you.”
“I didn’t know I had a soul until you stole it from me,” he says.
“I’ll never leave you behind. It’s you and me until the end—whatever end that may be. If you’re to die with a blade in your hand, then I’m to die by your side with a sword in mine.”
“Angel, you are the sickness of my thoughts and I have no intention of finding the cure.”
“I’ve never been a religious man, but I will worship you in ways the gods will envy.”
