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She looked up at him. “You’re a monster.” He raised an eyebrow. “Noticed that, have you?”
“You’re like a rose in a graveyard,” he said, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wonder what you could have turned into without the war.”
Touch him and she’d bleed, and yet she could not escape the allure of it.
Women were always defined by the lowliest thing they could be called.
Shiseo looked from her to the paper, an odd gleam of interest in his dark eyes. “I always knew you were very interesting.”
“This is war,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “It’s not some sort of tragic self-condemnation to be expendable. It’s a strategic liability not to be.”
The war was a cage with no escape.
Every line she’d once believed herself incapable of crossing, she passed over without hesitation now.
Someday, she promised herself, someday I am going to love him in a moment that isn’t stolen.
It was strange to stand inside a prison, and dread leaving it.
“We have to stop hurting ourselves for each other,” she finally said. “Both of us. We’re not going to last if this is the only way we know how to love.”
“Someday,” he said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder, “your mercy is going to have consequences.”
“There’s nothing to rival war for money.”
“I think I always saw running away as the destination. I never actually thought about what would be left of me by the time I got here.”
You shouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life trapped by all the promises that people forced you to make.”
“We said always, didn’t we?” she asked, her voice strained. “Always. Well, if you don’t want that promise in full any longer, I’ll give it to you in increments.” She clutched his hand tighter. “Every day. I’ll choose you. That way you’ll know it’s still what I want.”
