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She looks like a beautiful fucking disaster, one that I can’t wait to see unfold.
She refuses to look away, and it’s killing me. Is this what it feels like to be seen?
Life fucking hurts, and I want her to experience it with me.
For the first time, I don’t want to be alone. Not one bit.
Bad, Elijah. You’ve got the devil in you. She’s already dam...
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That girl is crying out to be helped and, ever the bleeding heart, I can’t help but listen.
I may not know a thing about her, but I’ve seen enough to know that she’s worth saving.
We’re all somewhere on the spectrum of morality, dabbling in shades of grey. There’s no such thing as good and bad. Not really.”
“We’re all cowards, Kade. Running scared from our pasts, avoiding the inevitable. It always finds its way back to us in the end.”
When I was playing the good guy, she stubbornly pushed me away. But now that I’ve owned my mistakes and shared my darkness with her? She’s cuddling up like a goddamn puppy and bathing in the grief. This girl isn’t right. Not one bit.
Hudson. Phoenix. Eli. And now? Brooklyn too. We’re family, and no one goes down on my watch.
“I never stopped hoping to see you,” he murmurs in a deep, throaty voice. “I tried to find you.”
“Brooke, blackbird. I’m so sor—”
“How dare you! I’m not your fucking blackbird. Not anymore.”
I may not deserve to live, but neither does he. Make him pay. Make him hurt. Cut him, the devil in my mind orders.
Now that I’ve seen her, laid my eyes on her translucent skin with hair lighter than fresh snow, I’m enthralled all over again.
Whatever brings her back to me.
All three of them care. It’s blindingly obvious, and I can’t help the jealousy that realisation brings. She isn’t theirs to care about.
If only I could go back, punch my younger self in the face and tell him to do the right thing, no matter the consequences. Instead, I ruined us both.
Everyone should hurt as much as me. Everyone should suffer like I do.
Words are better weapons than anything else. You can cut someone far deeper with the truth than any blade.
She was the best kiss of my life,
“You did this to me. You are the reason I’m here, why I’m screwed up beyond repair. Nothing, absolutely fucking nothing, will ever fix that. Walk away and never return.”
It’s like I’m watching an artist; the blade is his paintbrush and his arm is the canvas for him to create a beautiful, bloody scene of morbid proportions.
As sick as it is, I’m not interested in stopping him from hurting himself. I understand the need to gamble with that delicate line, somewhere between life and death. Too deep, and that’s it. Not deep enough, and you’re left wanting more.
It’s a vicious, addictive cycle. I fucking love it.
I want him to see my artwork and appreciate it for himself, one cutter to another. It’s like a rite of passage, this intimate sharing of our battle scars, inflicted by the ultimate enemy—ourselves.
I seal my lips on his. Just a whispered moment of affection, giving him a glimpse beneath the surface at the damaged girl tucked away behind layers of sarcasm and anger, who wants him to cut her when she can’t fucking do it herself.
As he draws it across my wrist, I wonder if he feels it—this unexplainable bond between us, like kindred souls reunited at last. We’re two lone wolves circling one another, both intrigued and a little afraid. I wonder what that feeling tastes like to him.
I realise after years of suffering through shitty hook-ups that this is what I like. Depraved. Bloody. Twisted. But ultimately, fucking incredible.
Eli’s lips work across my jawline and all the way down the slope of my neck, sucking and bruising along the way. I love it. He’s owning me and I cannot get enough.
The way he looks at me is fucking addictive, like I’m the very oxygen he breathes. My entire world begins and ends with the look of awe that fills his emerald eyes in this exact moment.
We’re twin flames destined for oblivion.
Control is power in this world.
I can’t explain the way I get attached to people. It’s like my heart claims them long before my brain has a chance to catch up. No matter who they are or what they’ve done, once I’m invested, there’s no turning back.
worried about what the hell I was going to do without my little brother. Someone who came into my life when I was already an adult, but still managed to become family.”
I gave up the best years of my life to be here. To support him and ensure that he isn’t alone in this world. And what do I get for my loyalty? Nothing. Fucking nothing.
Hudson doesn’t want my help? Fine. Let’s see how he likes it when I steal his girl. Then he’ll know how it feels to be disregarded.
If anyone deserves to be stabbed with a blunt dinner knife, it’s Hudson. My only regret is that I didn’t have anything sharper on hand to remove his organs with.
No one’s allowed inside my dead heart. I won’t survive it. They won’t survive it.
He latches on to the comfort of pain just like I knew he would. We’re the same fucking person.
I’m utterly fascinated by the sight of Eli’s blood on my skin. Now we’re even, both claimed in crimson by the other. I don’t know what that means for us, but it leaves me feeling giddy.
I’ll take whatever I can get to escape this world. It used to be drugs, back when I lived in London. But in my sobriety, I have to rely on sex instead.
We’re all in far too deep with this girl for our own good.
God. He’s making me miss her even more.
That girl is sin personified.
She’s haunting my every waking moment right now.
“The answer was in the drawer by her bed. Inside, I found a tiny, injured blackbird. It was tucked away in a matchbox that she stole from Mr Dane. Brooklyn was feeding it crumbs that she stole and got beaten to pay for.”
“This girl had become my entire reason for existing in a matter of weeks, and she was ignoring me to watch this bird,” Hudson spits.
“What do you think I did? I took the matchbox and killed the thing that took her from me,” he reveals. “I told her that hope was a pointless emotion as I snapped its neck right in front of her and tossed the carcass aside.”
