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To the ones who wear a smile like a loaded gun.
Some are born for peopling; I was born for anything that doesn’t include that.
You can’t covet something you never actually wanted or even thought about.
I stole his will, his future, and soon enough, his life will follow. I have a secret, I’m a thief. Ronan Astor is my next target. As well as my future husband.
The scent of something spicy fills my nostrils as he leans in to whisper against the lobe of my ear. “Run, ma belle.”
The moment she gasps, I crush my lips to hers. She tastes like…madness, the type you can never get away from or with. It’s the type that gets under your skin, and soon enough, you don’t know whether you’re losing your sanity or your life.
They say you should find what you love and keep it close. The same can be said about what you hate.
He never managed to get Eduard to quit this habit. He never will.
The upside of pretending since the day I was born is that most people can’t see the real me.
I am the slave of what I have spoken, but the master of what I conceal.
I’m at the Meet Up and I kicked everyone out to smoke weed and think about you in peace. I miss you and I’m going to fuck you when I find you, my crazy belle. Oh, and my calls have started with the PI. I’m going to convince Ethan to file a missing person report. You’re going down. I fucking miss you, though.
Because the truth is, he’s not normal, and neither am I. And maybe, just maybe, that’s completely fine.
“And I want every last bit of your craziness.”
After all, the most painful scars are the invisible ones.
“Mine. Only fucking mine,” he growls before he claims my lips in an animalistic kiss.
I never thought I would want someone to look at me like that until her.
“Too bad, because you’re going to listen, Teal. You’re going to listen to the story of a boy who hates himself so much he needs other people in order to exist.”
He abandoned me that night, and deep down, I never forgave him for it.
“Here’s the thing, belle.” My voice drops. “Since you came into my life, I don’t need people anymore. I just need you.”
When someone pours their heart out to you, the least you can do is not leave.
I wish you trusted me enough to let me see you.
But the little girl on my shoulder is still crying. She can’t stop, and neither can I.
“Have I mentioned today how much I love you, Ronan?” “I must’ve forgotten.” “I love you,” she whispers in my ear. “Not more than I love you, ma belle.”
