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“Don’t look at me like that,” Scarlett said. “It doesn’t work on me.” “That’s why it’s so fun.”
This girl was that hot sunny day in the middle of the Cold Season, either unaware or uncaring that she did not belong.
Not quite sure how far she’d already fallen, she imagined loving him would feel like falling in love with darkness, frightening and consuming yet utterly beautiful when the stars came out.
She remembered thinking falling for him would be like falling in love with darkness, but now she imagined he was more like a starry night: the constellations were always there, constant, magnificent guides against the ever-present black.
Then he saw her. Without another word, Julian set down his glass and strode toward her.
“If anything, I think this scar is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
It tasted like the moment before night gives birth to morning; it was the end of one thing and the beginning of something else all wrapped up together.
