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The man was a masterpiece. Carved of an ethereal canvas. Dark and wicked. Beautiful and right.
I wondered if he saw it, my fear, because he leaned over me and brushed his thumb across my jaw. The words left him on a rough promise, “You are worth the risk, Aster. Whatever it costs. I will fight for you. Live for you. Kill for you. Whatever it takes.” You are worth it. You are worth it. I didn’t think I’d ever felt as cherished as I did then.
“This is it, Aster. After this, there is no letting you go. You’re mine.” Throat thick, I gave him an erratic nod. “We fight together. We live together. We love forever.”
Those arms wound around me, and his nose ran up my cheek until his mouth was at my ear. “You might be mine, but you, Little Star, own me.”
“You are the existence that forever burned within me, Aster. You are the belief that I can live right. Do fucking better. Proof I can have a bigger purpose than this superficial bullshit that I’ve been chasing after. When I walk into a room? I want to walk in it for you. When I get up in the morning? I want to rise for you. When I live this life? I want to live it for you.”

