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She looks like a beautiful fucking disaster, one that I can’t wait to see unfold.
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.
“Nobody is all good, Brooke. 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.”
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.
It’s bitter and pointless, and I know I’m acting like an angry child. But inside, deep down, I still am that angry child.
Being normal is overrated,
