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one thing I’d learned in my centuries of soul-reaping was the most vanilla-looking people were the ones you had to watch out for.
What I would give to bottle up the feeling of when Iris smiled at me.
“Malice looks good on you, little witchling. Jealousy’s the color of your eyes.”
“Witchful Thinking”
“Why do you care if they know it was me?” I balked. “Who cares if it puts me in danger?” “I care!” she shouted, and I froze at the force of her words. “I care, dammit. Iris, please just leave this alone.”
I didn’t have the words to tell her I wanted her, that despite pushing her away, it thrilled me every time she stubbornly appeared again. The truth was it terrified me—she terrified me. I could deal with monsters and ghosts, but the way I felt about this girl was scarier than anything this paranormal town had to offer.
“Isn’t that what people do in kitchens?” Her silver eyes met mine. “Surround themselves with their favorite things to eat?”
“I kissed you because I wanted to,” she said. “Simple as that. I kissed you because every time your lips leave mine, all I can think about is when we’ll be joined again.”
“Cooking is its own kind of magic, like any other potion or intentional activity. It takes energy but also creates it. That’s all magic is, after all.”
“More,” I said, something in my chest swelling and threatening to burst.
Was that a question? The question? Or was it the final warning? I didn’t know and didn’t care. I couldn’t take it anymore. All of this building and building inside of me was always going to lead us to this moment, teetering on the precipice of something neither of us could deny. So instead of pulling away, I simply said the one word that had swarmed all my thoughts: “More.”
I wanted to memorize every inch of her.
All bless the goddess of lesbian magic.
“I’ve found true happiness here. I’ve found meaning. And I won’t sacrifice it for any quest for power or hollow bloodlust.”
“Every second her heart beats is beautiful, and I want to be a part of all she is willing to give to me.”
“I think you’re worth risking my heart for,” Iris whispered, and my throat constricted with emotion. “I think—I know,” she corrected, “that you’re worth it.”
