To Bleed a Crystal Bloom (Crystal Bloom, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

“Your face is wearing your opinion.”

I’m fearful to blink lest I sever the view, my serrated breath a tribute to the masterpiece before me.

she should absolutely saddle a horse, get the hell out of this castle, and never return.

but beautiful things don’t always bring you happiness.

Does he know he sustains me? Gives me everything and nothing all at once?

it’s usually the tallest flowers that get targeted with a pair of clippers,”

Hating the indifference in his eyes when all I need is a hug—for

I find myself arching like a flower—reaching as if he’s the sun and not a bitter frost that’ll likely leave me ruined.

If he were drawing me, I would imagine him digging the coal into canvas—gouging through it in places—ripping cloth from the wooden frame, screwing the picture up, flattening it out again, forcing it to yield to his will.