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Ever since he made the mistake of opening that first notebook, all he’d wanted to do was crack open her mind and swim in it.
“Sometimes fear cleanses the soul, Atta. It reminds us to look at the important things we took for granted while at peace.”
“You can be surrounded by people and still be alone, Atta.”
Fucking hell she was beautiful when she was angry. But not as beautiful as when she laughed.
If Sonder Murdoch was the dark lord, her soul was begging to be burned to ash.
“If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I’m the one who will make you wish you were dead. That’s who the fuck I am.”
a stór (uh stohr)—Irish Gaelic; meaning my darling, or my treasure
“Ní mhaireann solas na maidine don lá.”*
(Nee war-in sul-is nah mawd-in-ye gun law) No morning’s sun lasts all day; an Irish Gaelic saying meaning: life is finite, enjoy it while you can
I want to drown in this love, darling, he’d told her one morning when she apologised for hogging the bed.
