King of Sloth (Kings of Sin, #4)

by Ana Huang

“I used to hate sunsets,” I admitted. “I thought they were depressing. Sunsets represented endings, and they reminded me that every good thing comes to an end. I always felt sad when I saw one, but now…I don’t think they’re so bad.” I shrugged. “I like nights better than days, anyway.”

Without sunsets, there would be no nights, and just like that, my decades-old animosity toward the otherwise beloved phenomena dissolved as quietly as if it’d never existed.