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For the misunderstood.
“A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.” L. FRANK BAUM, THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ
“Time heals all wounds, Evie.” Spare me. Time heals nothing. Just gives things more space to grow and fester and rot.
“I don’t want to stalk you, pretty girl.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want to fuck you.”
See, what Dorothy doesn’t realize—what nobody else knows—is while our father may be the face of the family business, he’s not the brains. He needs me for that. So she may have his attention and get showered in his love, but she doesn’t truly have his favor. I do. And it starts right here, in my greenhouse full of poppies.
“There’s no one like family, Evie, and there’s no place like home. We have to stick together.”
“Tell me to sit and eat like a good boy, and I swear to fucking god I’ll do it.”
She grins again, that same thin smile with no teeth and blazing eyes that she always gives, and I realize then that Evelina Westerly is not one of the good guys. And she absolutely cannot be saved.
“You don’t care what I think about you?” “I’d rather you didn’t think of me at all.”
How can someone so fucking beautiful be so goddamn bad?
She dwells with Beauty. Beauty that must die; and joy, whose hand is ever at his lips. Bidding adieu; and aching pleasure nigh, turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips.’”
“Words were my calm in a life filled with chaos.”
“Jesus, pretty girl. You could ruin lives with a smile like that.”
But when it comes to Evelina Westerly, I’m a fucking fool.
“You don’t have to trust me, Evelina. But words are your safe space, the same way that they’re mine.” My fingers thread through his hair. “Let me be your calm in the chaos, pretty girl.”
“I think,” I say carefully, “the only love you can count on is the way you love yourself.”
“I don’t know how anyone could hate you.” “Don’t you hate me?” I shake my head, my middle squeezing tight. “About as much as you hate me.”
“Tell me you’re mine,” I demand against her lips. Her hand jumps up to my face, scratching the stubble as she stares into my eyes. “I’m yours.”
But if I’m her calm, then she is my chaos, and if I can’t live with her forever, then I don’t want to live at all.
I don’t think I knew what home was until I found it in her.
“We’re all just out here living, you know? Roaming under clouds that are a thousand different shades of gray. But you can’t help who you love, Nick.”
“I didn’t know that I could love until you. And you’re not perfect, okay? You piss me off and you do things I never thought I’d be all right with, and you’re moody as hell. You’re actually the furthest fucking thing from perfect I’ve ever seen. But, Evelina…you’re perfect for me.”
I don’t love Evelina in spite of her flaws. I love her because of them.
“‘You do not know how longingly I look upon you. You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking.’”
“You know, for not believing in romance—” “I’m so fucking in love with you, Evelina Westerly,” he cuts me off. I grin, rising up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “Every wretched piece?” He brushes the hair back from my face. “Every single one.”
