More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Because if you collapse, I’ll use my last breath to carry you. Because these ten weeks are all I get. Because I’ve memorized the exact shade of green your eyes turn before you cry, and I’d like to never, ever see that shade again.
She’s a loaded gun in a lace-trimmed holster, safety off, and I’m done pretending I wasn’t born to pull the trigger.
“Yours, huh?” I arch an eyebrow. “Funny, I don’t recall signing any property deeds.” His hands find my hips, yanking me closer. “No? Then why are you still wearing my marks from last night?”
“They’re mine. You’re mine. That makes every fucking breath I take yours, too.”
“You are my sun, Ariel. You are the bird that flies above it. You are the light I cannot be—so let me be the shadow that keeps you pure. Let my hands be dirty so yours can be clean. Let my sleep be broken so yours can be whole. I’m not your nightmare; I’m the nightmare of anyone who would ever think of dimming one second of your shine. So this is my vow: I vow to keep you flying, ptichka. For as long as we both shall live.”
