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“Are you eating?” he asked. “No,” she said. A few minutes of silence. There it was again. That crinkling, followed by light smacking of lips. “You’re eating something, I know it.” “I am not,” she said. At least, he thought that was what she intended to say. It came out more like, Ah mmf nah. “You little dissembler. Share.” “No.” “Very well, I’ll leave you here.” He rose to his feet. “All alone. In the dark. With the noises.” “Wait. All right, I’ll share.”
lmfaooooo
What a miracle that he’d survived at all. Then again, he was excessively ill-tempered and intractable. No doubt he’d simply refused to follow when death beckoned. That would be so like him.
Even now, the thought of letting her walk away . . . he couldn’t bear it. No. He wouldn’t allow it. This wasn’t tenderness that filled him with a fiery resolve. It was possession. Pure, raw, wild. If she could glimpse the brutish, primal impulses coursing through him, she would run like a rabbit flees a ravening wolf. And he would catch her. “You’re mine,” he said hoarsely, lifting his head and staring deep into her eyes, willing her to believe. “If you leave, I will follow. Do you hear me? I will follow and find you and cart you home.”
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“Sixty minutes too many,” he said testily. “You are wet, and you are cold. You don’t like being cold. Therefore, I despise you being cold. I would go about murdering raindrops
and setting fire to the clouds, but that would take slightly more than an hour. Perhaps even two. So we’re here, and you will cease complaining about it.”
Rules. Oh, no.
She reached for her shift. “Surely you don’t mean—” “Husband and wife by night only. No lights. No kissing. Once she bore me an heir, we would never share a bed again.”
Second, there’s a little thing called privilege of peerage. All we have to do is invoke it, and we’re off the hook for nearly any crime.” She was agape. “You’re joking.” “Not at all.” “My goodness. That must be nice.” “It is, rather. Can’t deny it.”
lmao i hate him
Who knows what the broadsheets would call you? The Beastly Bride of Bloom Square?” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you have that moniker thought out in advance?” “No,” he said, sounding defensive.
🤣🤣🤣
