The Second Death of Locke (The Hand and the Heart, #1)

by V.L. Bovalino

They were fools when they were young: so often on the edge of death, so desperate for someone else to fall into the chasm alongside them, as if the reaper’s teeth would not gnash them to nothing as long as they remained together.

so she raced through bathing.

It's refreshing that they bathe so frequently

sixteen years by his side and the devastation of not having more.

Perhaps all she wanted, after all this time, was to be soft.

“Why must you always sacrifice yourself, and call that love?”

“What is love, without freedom?” she murmured against his skin. He leaned close to kiss her shoulder, then to whisper in her ear. “What is life, without you?”