“Don’t you get tired of it?” The edge to his voice was so clear I could practically see the sharp glint on his lips. “Tired of what?” The whisper held the weight of the question. I was exhausted. “Running.” His lip curled up in disgust. I could hear the rumble in his voice echo in the earth below us, threatening to swallow me whole. “The second you have a single, fucking doubt about anything, Emmeline, you run. You never give me a gods damn chance. You don’t even try.”
Ooooooooffff
