Unravel Me (Shatter Me, #2)

by Tahereh Mafi

The world might be sunny-side up today.

Warner was right. No matter where I go, I can’t seem to run from this.

Because I’ve never had girl friends before. Because I’m afraid I’ll do something wrong, say something wrong and they’ll end up hating me like all the other girls I’ve known. And I like them too much, which will make their inevitable rejection so much harder to endure.

But time is beyond our finite comprehension. It’s endless, it exists outside of us; we cannot run out of it or lose track of it or find a way to hold on to it. Time goes on even when we do not.

and my heart has flown to the moon without me.

“Please—please get up—and lower your voice—” “Hell no.” “Why not?” I’m pleading now. “Because if I lower my voice, I won’t be able to hear myself speak. And that,” he says, “is my favorite part.”

And I understand, for the first time, that I have the power to destroy everything.

How many times, I hear a voice whisper in my head, how many times will you apologize for who you are?

It’s the kind of kiss that makes you realize oxygen is overrated.

That I thought I could slip into the role of a regular girl with a regular boyfriend; that I thought I could live out the stories I’d read in so many books as a child.

I find myself thinking about Warner too much.

Synonyms know each other like old colleagues, like a set of friends who’ve seen the world together. They swap stories, reminisce about their origins and forget that though they are similar, they are entirely different, and though they share a certain set of attributes, one can never be the other. Because a quiet night is not the same as a silent one, a firm man is not the same as a steady one, and a bright light is not the same as a brilliant one because the way they wedge themselves into a sentence changes everything.

Loneliness is a strange sort of thing. It creeps up on you, quiet and still, sits by your side in the dark, strokes your hair as you sleep. It wraps itself around your bones, squeezing so tight you almost can’t breathe. It leaves lies in your heart, lies next to you at night, leaches the light out from every corner. It’s a constant companion, clasping your hand only to yank you down when you’re struggling to stand up.

And the butterflies drop dead.

Warner is standing not 20 feet away from me.

Omg!!!

Because Warner is beautiful in ways even Adam isn’t.

I hear Warner laugh. I see him smile. It’s the kind of smile that transforms him into someone else entirely, the kind of smile that puts stars in his eyes and a dazzle on his lips

He has dimples. He’s easily the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Hey!” he barks. “You there—” I look up without intending to, without realizing that I’ve responded to Warner’s voice until it’s too late.

omg its her from the other book!! (the novella in warners perspective!)

No one ever stops to ask glue how it’s holding up. If it’s tired of sticking things together or worried about falling apart or wondering how it will pay its bills next week. Kenji is kind of like that.

will have to see him every single day. Wanting him from a million miles away.

“You definitely do. You have severe mental constipation.”

xD

“You’re like a sexy, super-scary plant.”

you to decide who gets to die. Who are you to decide who should be killed. Who are you to tell me which father I should destroy and which child I should orphan and which mother should be left without her son, which brother should be left without a sister, which grandmother should spend the rest of her life crying in the early hours of the morning because the body of her grandchild was buried in the ground before her own.

Besides,” he adds, stretching out the muscles in his arms, “I look sexy as hell in this outfit.”

came to me and begged me not to kill you. Just you.” He stops. Looks up. “He actually begged me not to kill you.”

I feel my bones ignite. Warner is here.

Aaron.

<333333

“Shoot her,” Warner says, “and I will put a bullet through your skull.”

“My father,” he says. “This man is my father.”

WTF NOOOOO

I s h a t t e r what’s left of this earth.

I’m just beginning to realize that he’s one of my favorite people on this planet and I’m so happy he’s okay.

He’s suddenly pale, pressing his lips together and looking away, out the tiny window of this tank.

SO WARNER AND ADAM ARE LIKE HALF BROTHERS OR SOMETHING? NO.

Adam and Aaron Anderson. Brothers.

EW NO

“I am so tired, love. I’m so very, very tired.”

Those dimples.

I’m checking my pockets for spare words and sentences but I’m finding none, not an adverb, not a preposition or even a dangling participle because there doesn’t exist a single response to such an outlandish request.

I don’t want anyone to know, for example, that Warner told me he loves me.

“You say you love me,” he says. “And I know I love you.” He looks up, meets my eyes. “So why the hell can’t we be together?”

“You’re so lovely when you’re blushing,” Warner says to me. “But I really wish you wouldn’t waste your affections on someone who has to beg for your love.”

“Just because I’m going to hell,” Warner says, “doesn’t mean you’ll ever deserve her.”

Warner is one of us.

“He held you captive and managed to fall in love with you in the process.”

It’s a tattoo. No pictures. Just 1 word. 1 word, typed into the very center of his upper back. In ink. IGNITE

And his skin is shredded with scars.

Omg what happened to him??

Warner is horrible.

But he's Aaron mf Warner. Therefore its fine ;)

While one part of me struggles to be so candid, another part of me actually feels comfortable talking to Warner. Safe. Familiar.

The books … they helped keep me from losing my mind altogether

But with Warner there’s nothing to hide.

<3

“I like to read, too,” he says.

WAIT NOW HE'S LIKE 1000x BETTER