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Mejhiren’s Followers (4)
Mejhiren
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When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun (When the Mooniverse, #1)
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
“Star-babes. Baby fawns. A womb swollen and radiant as a harvest moon.”
― When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun
― When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun
“I wonder for the first time, with a sharply caught breath, if I did love Peeta then. If the grief that poured out of me during his Games had been the outcry of a breaking heart, rendered powerless to prevent her beloved's pain. If I agreed to his bargain not simply to save my family but because my heart desperately wanted to live in the glow of his. If the kiss I clumsily pressed to his cheek after the Reaping – the kiss that sent me sprinting back to the woods to burrow among the roots of an old tree and cry myself sick – had nothing to do with debt or gratitude and everything to do with love and loss.
I wonder if I've loved him since that moment under the apple tree when a boy with a bruised cheek threw burnt bread and life to a dying girl. A girl who grew and thrived because of that boy and that bread, who wished for five years that she could have soothed his cruel bruise with a kiss.
Was that why I kissed him after the Reaping? Had I been carrying that clumsy kiss inside of me all that while? Had Peeta brought life to my heart as well as my body that hopeless day in the rain?
Have I ever not loved him?
I shake away these troubling thoughts with a shiver that reaches to my bones. My love for Peeta is fresh and fragile as a hatchling, I'm sure of it; kindled by his compassion and coaxed into its present brave blaze by the tenderness he shows me at every moment. It's foolish and futile to wonder whether I might have loved him before coming here, let alone when that love might first have flickered into existence. I am a wild creature, devoted to the boy who tamed me with warmth and food and gentle touches, and I accordingly express that love with woodland gifts.
Like a courting bird in an old tale, bringing her sweetheart all manner of odd little presents to feather his nest.”
― When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun
I wonder if I've loved him since that moment under the apple tree when a boy with a bruised cheek threw burnt bread and life to a dying girl. A girl who grew and thrived because of that boy and that bread, who wished for five years that she could have soothed his cruel bruise with a kiss.
Was that why I kissed him after the Reaping? Had I been carrying that clumsy kiss inside of me all that while? Had Peeta brought life to my heart as well as my body that hopeless day in the rain?
Have I ever not loved him?
I shake away these troubling thoughts with a shiver that reaches to my bones. My love for Peeta is fresh and fragile as a hatchling, I'm sure of it; kindled by his compassion and coaxed into its present brave blaze by the tenderness he shows me at every moment. It's foolish and futile to wonder whether I might have loved him before coming here, let alone when that love might first have flickered into existence. I am a wild creature, devoted to the boy who tamed me with warmth and food and gentle touches, and I accordingly express that love with woodland gifts.
Like a courting bird in an old tale, bringing her sweetheart all manner of odd little presents to feather his nest.”
― When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun
“This meal tastes like happiness," he murmurs, curling the tail of my braid around his fingertip. "It's bursting with it, actually; with happiness and affection and…a-and –" He breaks off with a sharp, strange cry, quickly stifled. "With…other wonderful things," he says hoarsely.
That's where the extra love went, I realize in horror. There was never a chance to store it away. It spilled out of me and right into his food.”
― When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun
That's where the extra love went, I realize in horror. There was never a chance to store it away. It spilled out of me and right into his food.”
― When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun
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