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To the girls who have been through hell but come out with its fire burning through their soul, its crimson bleeding from their heart, and the devil as their side bitch. This one’s for you. For us. Straighten that crown. Deuces.
“Trust no one. Fear no one. Fuck everyone,” I whisper to myself,
He has the profile of a GQ model, but the twisted mind of Michael Myers.
As alluring as a peaceful swan floating on water, but as lethal as a silver bullet.”
I swear to God, if this turns all supernatural-y, I will demand that Dean Winchester roar into my life in his fucking muscle car and sweep me off my feet, or I’m done.
When you fall for the devil, make sure you don’t land facedown with his horns stabbed through your heart.
“Prince Charming obviously.” I brush Bishop off. Brantley laughs. “That’s cute. But no, more like a dark knight.”
He’s perfection wrapped in a case of C4.
It’s intense. His stare is always intense; it makes me want to look away, but I’m afraid I won’t feel it again. I want to feel it for as long as I can. Soak it up, bathe in it, swim in it. Now I sound crazy, but maybe I am. Maybe when it comes to him, he brings out the dark, crazy side of me that I’ve always suppressed by being the quiet girl. Because he gives me confidence, all the confidence I need to tackle or do anything, and that’s lethal.
Bishop wraps his arm around me, pulling me in and kissing me on the head. “Hey, baby.” Swoon.

