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“The Korean word for dragonfly is ‘jamjali.’ It was my nickname. What he always called me.” “Why?” “Because…because the word for dragonfly is the same as the word for needle.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving thickly. “And he said I always spoke with the intent to pierce. That it was what I was made for. And that was why God made me as pretty and fragile as a dragonfly, yet sharp enough to dart through flesh to the bone.” “Your ex-boyfriend has some fucked ideas of how to compliment someone.”
“He could have used a redirect. Or just an app to put a fake location into his phone. I used to do it for Pokémon Go all the time.”
🤣🤣
“Seong-Jae!” “You have said that several times,” he groaned, struggling to gather himself again. His head was spinning, his vision blurring into twos and threes. “Is there something you need?” “Listen, you fucking beautiful smartass—”
“I love you,” Malcolm said. Every word sounded like a drop of heart’s blood, torn out of him and bleeding—or maybe torn out of Seong-Jae, when he felt like his heart was collapsing. “I need you to know that. I need you to know I fucking love you so much, and I just—I just—” “Shut the fuck up,” Seong-Jae choked out. His eyes stung, his breaths coming labored and fast. “Do not dare. Do not dare say that to me just because you think you will die. I will fucking kill you myself.” “It’s true, though,” came through softly. “I love you. I love you, Seong-Jae.”
If he was to die, he would die with the taste of his love on his lips.
May…may I touch you again?” Malcolm asked tentatively,
