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the people on the street were as thick as a murder of crows.
It tasted like the best parts of the Cold Season, mixed with just a hint of heat.
Brownish green, the color of forgotten memories, abandoned dreams, and bitter gossip.
something about him made her feel perilous shades of silky black.
“Is that really what they said? Or is that just how you interpreted them?”
There’s more than one way to get to almost every destination.
This game is like a person. If you truly want to play it right, you need to learn its history.”
Aiko believed in saying yes whenever possible.
“This year’s game is not about other people.” Aiko’s gold-rimmed eyes met Scarlett’s. “Other participants aren’t missing their sister.”
Sour shades of yellow-green made her stomach roil with trepidation.
A funny thing happens when people feel as if they are paying less for something than they ought: suddenly the worth goes down.
Thieves Will Be Turned to Stone.
champagne and pale-orchid beadwork—the colors of infatuation.
she’d reached the point in the game that marked no returns as well.
“Where were you … earlier?” she asked. “In the wrong place.”
Dimly, she knew she tasted his blood. It was like no other gift she’d ever received. Strangely beautiful, alarmingly intimate. And she wanted more of it. More of him.
She knew she would give him what he asked for—whatever he asked for—that she would eagerly let him drink a part of her the way she had him.
this felt like something entirely separate, existing only for the two of them.
when his soft lips touched her skin the entire world shattered into a million shards of colored glass.
For a moment she could feel his emotions again, as close as if they were her own. Awe mixed with fierce protectiveness, and a thread of pain so intense she wanted to take the hurt from him.
She burrowed against him, attempting to fight off death for another minute and hold on to him instead.
Death was the color purple. Purple wallpaper and purple temperatures.
“Tella, you’re not going to die,” Scarlett scolded. Tella’s image flickered like a candle lacking confidence. “I might if you don’t win this game.
“No one sees him more than once; they say he wears a different face every game. Beautiful but cruel.
“Legend likes to play twisted games with people, and one of his favorites is making girls fall in love with him.
The world tasted like lies and ashes
The most intimate thing she’d ever done. She needed that to be real. She wanted Julian to be real.
she would have given him more than just her blood if he’d only asked.
The chain of fear around her throat choked her
there was no omnipotent hand determining her destiny; she needed to stop letting her worries control it.
She might have felt weak, but her love for her sister was not.
She could see the sting of her rejection in shades of stormy blue, ghosting over his heart like sad morning mist.
Scarlett had always seen her own emotions in color, but she’d never seen another person’s. She didn’t know what shocked her more, that she could now see the color of Julian’s feelings, or that those feelings were so wounded.
Soulmate AU
when he left, it felt as if he was closing the door on her as well.
Then he ripped open the buttons of his shirt.
Odd timing but I'm not mad about it
most people aren’t willing to give up their life for someone else, even small pieces of it.”
His hands were clenched, holding his secrets the way Scarlett so often clutched her fear, as if letting go would unravel him.
The type of touch that moves through damaged flesh, past fractured bones and into a person’s wounded soul.
Tella loved danger the same way candlewicks loved to burn.
there was something seductive about winning the heart of someone who’d vowed to never love again.
“I’m not sorry for doing what your sister wanted: I believe people should have the freedom to make their own decisions.
his warm brown eyes were softer than she’d ever seen them, and open, as if he wanted her to view something he usually kept hidden.
I’m a liar and I’m bitter and sometimes I make terrible choices. I come from a prideful family that’s always playing games with one another,
flat black, the color of failure and funerals.
Sometimes caution held her back rather than kept her safe.
Her skirt and blouse were silver this time, with eyes and lips painted to match. Like a teardrop the moon had cried.
Scarlett had an emerald-green premonition
She remembered thinking falling for him would be like falling in love with darkness, but now she imagined he was more like a starry night: the constellations were always there, constant, magnificent guides against the ever-present black.
“I’m not afraid of your secrets.”
Every touch created colors she had never seen. Colors as soft as velvet and as sharp as sparks that turned into stars.
