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The human heart is a traitorous little organ. It doesn’t care about logic, or self-preservation, or the meticulously constructed walls you’ve wasted decades building up. It doesn’t care that you’ve spent your whole life running from the very thing now standing in front of you, smirking like the devil who just won the last soul at the auction.
“Wanting you is far more than ‘inconvenient,’ Ariel. It’s fucking ruining me. Do you know that? How can you not see that?” His laugh, when it comes out, is utterly heart-wrenching. “I want you so much it’s rotting my bones. Every second I’m with you, I want to bury myself in you until we both forget our own names. But wanting—” He presses his forehead to mine and exhales wearily. “Wanting is how men like me get people like you killed.”
