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“We play.”
“A wa...
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“If I win, you will answer three questions from me. Truthfully.”
“And if I win, we pretend we’re the ones who existed in that place I suspect you built for us, but only until next aurora rise. At which stage, you’ll owe me a single wish.”
“What happens once the aurora rises?”
“Not important.”
“What. Ha...
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“I will have a Mindweft smudge you from my brain. Get back to reality. The wish is precautionary.”
He may think it’s cruel, but I refuse to barter with his well-being. And loving me? It’s a fucking death wish.
“What?”
“You lost someone . . .”
“If I’m losing you again, I need to know why,”
All I want from this slumber is to allow myself to love. Or at the very least try. For him. For me.
her soft smile the gleaming slash of a blade that strikes home, bleeding the vulnerable organ that so eagerly pumps for her. Only her.
The only beam of light I’ll ever need or want in this world, my love for her sitting like a moon in my chest. Only this moon will never fall, no matter how hard she tugs on it.
Only this time, I’m not blind or in denial. This time, I fucking see. She’s hurting. Lost someone. Maybe more than one. She thinks she doesn’t deserve . . . this. Us. That if she opens her heart and lets me in, something bad will happen.
“Was this a bad idea?”
“Yes.”
V...
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“We’ll stop. I’m sorry. I wanted to give you—”
“The perfect goodbye?”
I don’t want the perfect goodbye. I want to say hello to Raeve—whoever that is. Whoever’s tucked beneath that hardened exterior, I want to know her. Be around her. Love her.
“Perhaps I don’t want to dance with you after all.”
“Lies,”
“You want to dance with me, Raeve.”
You want to love me, too. But you’re in the way of yourself.
“Your hands know me,”
“Yes,”
“Know you, crave you, wor...
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I could go on. Tell her our bodies clash like they were made to ...
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History is repeating itself all over again, and it makes me want to rip the fucking world in two. Crack it open in hopes of finding the answers to the heartbreaking riddle of . . . Her.
“Do you have something to hide, Moonbeam?”
“What an absurd assumption.”
“Then why did you run?”
“I thought you enjoyed hunting me down?”
“I’ve hunted your spirit for one hundred and twenty-three phases, Raeve. Forgive me if I’m a bit jaded.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what ...
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Though my voice is big, it’s pitched with a desperate, hopeful plea. A beg. She’s probably picturing me on my knees, and perhaps that should bother me. It doesn’t. I’d spend eternity looking up at her if she’d only fucking let me.
Wishing for a reality where she could be as vulnerable with me as I am with her—her
But my hope is a flame that’ll never blow out. Not when it comes to her. She could sink me to the bottom of the Loff, and it’d still burn like a sun.
“You’re remarkably good at keeping your word, Sire.”
“I’ll take it to my grave, Moonbeam.”
“I like this moon,”
“It’s the same color and size as the little wonky one I could see from my window back in Gore.”
The same one on ...
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“Do you want me to tell you why you like it?”
“No.”
Of cours...
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“I envy the dragons, Kaan. They worship death so beautifully. We just . . . lose. Left with nothing but ghosts and memories that feel like wounds.”
