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“You’re not going to walk through life, Amara,” he uttered roughly, each word a vow that cemented itself in her heart. “You’ll dance through it. And I’ll fucking remove anyone who tries to break your rhythm. I promise you.”
she was just a girl and he was just a boy, and somehow, their broken pieces matched.
‘Fate is always weaving its threads, Dante. We just don’t see them until our eyes open.’
“I will kiss you and brand myself upon your heart, Amara,” he told her quietly. “Just make sure you’re ready for me to.”
Oh Dante. Breathless.
