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My New Year’s resolutions are simple: Get my sister back from Jeremiah. Don’t fuck anyone that’s kin to me. And maybe kill my dad if I’m feeling ambitious.
“I know a devil when I see one.” “And just how many devils have you met?” I ask her, leaning down close, the blade still against her neck. I hear her swallow. “Not many,” she admits, “but every time I look in the mirror, there’s one staring back at me.”
Monsters always get away with more in the dark.
but I guess when you’re raised with monsters, those with the dullest teeth seem the most angelic.
when you’re raised with monsters, those with the dullest teeth seem the most angelic.
Romantic comedies never have devils in them. It’s why they’re so easy for me to watch. I don’t get attached to the good guys.
Are devils made? Was I born empty? Was he?
He’s not a boy that does forever. I’m not a girl that deserves it.
Since we had to look at ourselves in the fucking mirror for the first time in a while, and turns out, we don’t like a damn thing we see.
bodies are easy. It seems hearts are far more complicated.
Amor fati. A favorite of the 6; love of fate. Another way to say that no matter how bad life fucks you, it’s all for the greater good.
“Maybe I did think you’d save me. Maybe I did think you’d take me out of that life. But you’re not who I thought you were.”
Go bury your self-loathing into someone who can take it, because I can’t, Maverick. I fucking can’t because I hate myself enough for both of us.”
Gods do that sometimes. They bring a lesson from the pain.
This is a reminder. I can never be the type of man she needs. I can never be the type of man anyone needs. I can’t even be who I need. The most I can hope for is to be a good brother. To help Lucifer. Sid. Atlas. Ezra. Cain. Even if it means breaking them apart, too. But I know better than most that getting broken means you get put back together. Sometimes stronger.
“Hate me. Hurt me. Heal me,” he says again. “Well, come on, baby. Play God with me.”
“I was so scared and I felt like a kid again.” He meets my gaze, running his thumb back and forth over my cheek. “I felt like a stupid kid because love isn’t real and it doesn’t happen that fast and the people I love... I always hurt them.”
I don’t wanna go anywhere you’re not going, even if you take me straight to hell.
Pretty soon, these bricks might seem like they’re closing in on me, or maybe they’ll seem like the gates to fucking heaven. Thus, the nature of psychedelics; like a box of chocolates, you really never know what you’re gonna get. But my brain is infected with darkness, so I have a pretty good idea.
But when the ache goes away, it always comes back. Until her. Until I met a little devil in the woods, it was always there in my brain. But then she came around…and the past went quiet.
“There’s no difference between love and hate, Mavy. The opposite of those is indifference,
Sometimes you leave the things you love, to keep them safe from just how strong your love can be. Because you love them enough to save them from yourself.
“I fucking love you and I didn’t see you coming. I never saw this coming, okay? But I love you and your fucking red hair and your freckles and how you could eat everything in my goddamn house and still want more. I love how you beg me, how you want me to hurt you, how you kiss me. How you’ve defended me more than anyone else has in my life.”
He set my heart on fire when I wasn’t sure I could feel a fucking thing anymore. But I feel him, burning in me, and I know that flame will never go out.
He’s not any less damaged than when we first met, and neither am I. It’s not even that our broken pieces fit well together; they don’t. It’s that we’re willing to step in the glass, bleed a little for each other; that’s what matters. That’s what our love is. Broken, bloody, and perfect.
