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I’ve never been a religious man, but last night, I rocked back and forth, knees digging into the rug as I prayed to every deity I’ve ever learned about to keep her safe. I would have sold my soul to the devil for the rest of my life in exchange for her health and safety.
She smells like wildflowers and the first rain after a long drought.
Consent is important to me, even more so after what she experienced the other night. I know she’s hugged me, but I’ll never assume it’s okay to just touch her without asking.
“This scheme of ours is the premise of, like, 72% of the books I devour.” “What makes up the other 28%? Do I need to download something to my Kindle to catch up?” “I’m not sure you want to know the answer to that question. Your Kindle might explode.”
“You amaze me sometimes, Josephine. You find the good in every situation. In every person. Even a dark soul like me. How is that possible?” “Trust me, you’re not a dark soul. You’re simply searching for the light. There’s a big difference.” “What’s the difference?” “You’re trying, even if you aren’t whole yet. Sometimes, that’s what is most important. Sometimes, trying is half the battle.”
Love doesn’t pick the pretty parts to like about someone; it’s all-encompassing.
