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“I’m not so sure what’s more terrifying, the violent storm inside my head or the silence.” —Oliver Masters
“You’re desperate, I know, but his touch is never going to fix it. You’re empty, I know, but he can never fill the place I once did. I warned you, my love, but you’re stubborn and never listen.” —Oliver Masters
“Goals,” I laughed lightly from the leather couch, “There’s a word I would never have attached to my name before.”
Missing him only strengthened with each passing day, and putting on a face for everyone to see became a daily battle. Torn between two worlds—life with Ollie, and life after him. Only, I never wanted or expected an after. My body and my heart both refused it, keeping me up each night, inducing the night terrors. He lingered inside my head, words always haunting me, his voice always reminding me of what we had. He’d left this beautiful trauma inside me, and the flame of what we shared burned.
“Everyone gives you a bad vibe,” Bria countered. That was true.
I was held captive by the love Ollie gave, and the future he built for us. But the day Ollie slipped away, I shattered. For seven months, I was left behind picking up the pieces.
“What’s keeping me up at night is the haunting memory of that last breath you took right in front of me.” —Oliver Masters
With every step closer to the mess hall, my soul felt like it was one step ahead of me, leaving my body only wanting to be closer to hers. Adrenaline pumped, keeping my body up with my eager soul.
“The truth is, I’m not normal. Is that too much for you to handle?” —Oliver Masters
“Because love is constant. When you love someone, you can be angry with them, you can hate them, you can be upset or disappointed in them, but you never stop loving them because love endures all other emotions.”
“I’m stuck between I’ll never be enough and no one else will ever love you more.” —Oliver Masters
“For a love everlasting, make her roses out of paper. For a love as poetic, make her roses out of literature. And if you’re lucky enough to find both, remind her every damn day.” —Oliver Masters
“We’re Ollie and Mia. Not some bloody love story or fairy tale. Those all have endings,” I reiterated before finishing off the bottle. “Real love never dies.”
Tears reminded us we could feel. Pain reminded us we were alive. And I’d rather feel too much than feeling nothing at all.
“When the night arrives, and all the stars have died, you are still not alone. I go through many phases, but I will never leave. When all is lost, wish upon me. —advice from the moon.” —Oliver Masters
That light was the constant reminder of what was waiting for me after this darkness would leave. It hung above me like a lamplight—the memory of us.
Like a ghost walking the planes of the earth aimlessly, lost and confused, unheard and unseen, I’d felt Ollie’s internal pain. And it was that same feeling that kept my eyes open in the slow passing hours of the night.
“Once upon a time, there was a girl with a black heart and a lost soul. She was unpredictable, impulsive, never allowed anyone close enough.”
“I am … falling, that is. No one tells you about the fall, how once it starts it never stops. But that’s a story for another day, my friend.”
“They said she wasn’t capable of feeling, but the way she looked at me said otherwise. They said she was better off alone, but her kiss pleaded for me not to leave. They said I was wasting my time, but my heart begged to differ. They said she was the devil …”
The worst part of caring too much, of feeling too much, of having too much to give, was that eventually you drain from being too much for too long. My fucks to give had a number, and between the medication and my tank depleted, I’d finally landed in the center of the storm, out of gas. The place I remember so vividly, and it welcomed me with open arms.
bigger smile spreads across my lips as an idea comes to mind. I have to show her. She has to see this world I created for us that one day I’d give her. “Go on, close your eyes.”
“Call me a criminal, killing her heartache with unsteady hands and lips shaped like a knife.” —Oliver Masters
But love never leaves you. It only hides behind every temporary emotion until you deserve to be embraced by it again. And bloody hell, Mia deserved it.
“If you don’t walk out of here with Mia, know there are other fish in the sea.” In an instant, my smile faded. “You don’t get it. Mia is the sea.”
“You’re not broken, only bent to perfection.” —Oliver Masters
Doctors saw imperfections, a mental illness, but all I saw was strength: a powerful mind and the ability to protect the rest of herself from it when needed.
People who couldn’t fathom or understand one’s complexity, blamed it on a sickness. The people who couldn’t put you in a specific box, shied away. And the people who couldn’t open their hearts to those who were different from them, undermined.
A pit formed in my stomach at the thought of losing Mia because of something I’d done, and Jude’s grief rubbed off on me, growing this sickness inside me until it became unmanageable.
“This thing between you and Masters. Hell, I haven’t even seen the two of you together, but I don’t have to. Every word Masters speaks, every look in his eyes, every time he takes a bloody breath …”—Ethan exhaled— “It’s all you, Mia. All I hear, see, and feel is you. You’re mixed in him, and if you dropped dead, I wouldn’t be surprised if Master’s heart gave up along with yours. It’s fucking weird, Jett, and hard to explain.”
I felt him before my eyes found him. He was somewhere in the room, and my entire body hummed to his wavelengths. I didn’t have butterflies in my stomach. No. This feeling was a couple dozen phoenix’s rising from their ashes.
Didn’t he know? Love was attracted to the soul inside, blind to everything else. No one had an option—no choice in the fucking matter.
“Look at me.” Her eyes snapped to mine, and I grabbed her hand and placed it over my chest. “You feel that? This is real. Whatever’s got a hold of you in here,” I tapped her head, “it’s working really hard to turn that fucking switch again. But I have a hold on you too, and I’m never letting go.”
The whole world could be crumbling beneath us, waves crashing into us, the sun falling toward us at an impossible rate, and it would all be okay because we had each other.
“When the sun dies and darkness bleeds, she’s the black sheep I’m counting; A loose cannon; another’s regret. A what-if, and repeated mistake. She dances for no one and howls with the wolves. A moon child with the spirit of a mood ring. She’s my all-time love.” —Oliver Masters
“In the wake of death, a monster was born. His name was Karma, and he craved revenge.” —Oliver Masters
