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Today, she was a bad person. And not just in the oops-I-fucked-up-and-accidentally-dropped-a-baby kind of way. Bad in the I’m-taking-a-magnifying-glass-to-a-jar-full-of-bugs-and-I-fucking-love-it kind of way.
She longed to do something unhinged and beautiful.
“Because how can I leave this earthly plane without doing everything I can to protect them?”
“You’ll be fine.” Fine. Right. That’s what serial killers say to their victims before they drive them down an old winding road to meet a garden shed full of meat hooks.
“You are not a mess,” she tells herself. “You are very much all the fuck put together.”
Babies, marriages, first homes. Those are big life events. Death is too. Everyone deserves their last wishes.”
“Drinking from the bottle is very heathen behavior.” She lifts it in a toast. “I approve.”
“That’s right. Fucking wreck me.”
As a doctor, he understands her condition. As Nathaniel Whitford, he sees that her diabetes is just a piece of her.
Life is a short series of commas, and if you’re lucky, an exclamation point, and then you die.
“Love and death are so similar. The beginning. The end. It’s all a mystery. An unknown. Both are always on our minds. We don’t control the ride, the ride controls us. And no matter how hard we prepare, no matter how much we think we’ve got this, we can’t escape. Love. Or death.”
His cock could punch through drywall.
His hard exterior full of broody frowns and stern brows. But inside, he’s like a Cadbury egg. All gooey and soft.
She’s never been one for organized religion, but the spiritual, the woo-woo, the weird, has always helped her ground herself.
She loves the mythology of it. That blend of magic and supernatural.
He doesn’t know how to tell her. That he’s not okay if she’s not okay. That he’d give his own life to keep her safe. That she’s endgame. In his head, heart, blood, soul. She owns him.
Because the end result in life is that time runs out. She has to live while she can. Love while she can.
And then he’s inhaling her. Devouring her with a mind-melting, panty-dropping kiss that sends her into a whole new orbit.
I want to be the only man in your world, Ash. The only man you want to kill. Kiss. Fuck.” His eyes turn molten. “Love. If that’s what you want.”
“I love you. Until this world ends and our sun is nothing but a shriveled, dead star, I will love you.”
“All I kept thinking about was you. How I couldn’t leave this world without seeing you one last time.”
Love isn’t about fixing yourself so that someone loves you. It’s about finding the right person to love you as you are.
