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February 15 - February 16, 2025
“Live, Orlaith. All I’m asking is that you live.”
“And he liked the red.”
“Mates, Orlaith, are a fairy tale. A tragedy painted with the pretty face of a happily ever after, but at its core, it’s still a fucking tragedy. If you believe everything you read, you’ll be disappointed when you finally step into the real world.”
“This, Orlaith. This right here is why we have the door.”
“Do not, under any circumstance, leave your room. Do you understand me?”
She absolutely is going to leave her room
“That’s how you kiss someone you love, Orlaith. Anything less and they aren’t worthy of your heart or the power to break it. Understood?”
The twists of his hair fall in such nonchalant disarray they bear their own sort of perfection,
I’m in love with a man who’ll never be mine—who’s unavailable in every way, shape, and form—and I’m certain it’s going to ruin me.
“You look perfect to me.” I peel off the door and twist around, staring daggers at it. “You can’t even see me.” “Don’t need to.”
“What I want, what I need, and what is right are three entirely different things.”
“Despite how murderous I am,” he mumbles, and there’s a roundness to his words, like they had to veer their course to get here, “you do look ravishing in that color.”
It doesn’t matter who you are, where you’ve come from; it’s in our nature to fall in love with the shackle that binds us.”
“I’m not too prideful to steal another man’s treasure, Orlaith.”
that stack of psychological kindling between us that finally caught light.
“You want a fairy tale?” he spits, waving it in my face. “I’m your fucking fairy tale. I’m nailed to your soul, Orlaith, and believe me when I tell you there is no happily ever after. Not for me, and certainly not for you.”
the monster you know is safer than the monster you don’t.
