Beatriz Gil

“If people can’t accept me, then fuck ’em.”

“I wear makeup and dye my hair light purple. I’m small and soft in a school full of macho bullshit.”

“I don’t want to actually die. But also… not existing right now would be kind of great.”

“Tu eres mío. Solo mío. My pretty doll.”

“You feel so good underneath me, muñequito.”

“Such a beautiful cock. It’s so soft and pretty. Just like you, muñequito.”

“When have we ever been sane?”

What if memory isn’t an obstacle to be removed, but a muscle to be trained?

“The concept of ‘evil’ is a construct, Mr. Reynolds. I don’t believe there’s any such thing. Only unexplored consequences.”

That’s all I’d wanted for so long. For someone to let me hold them. Touch them. To make me feel like I wasn’t here alone and forgotten.

“I don’t want to be someone you didn’t want to remember.”

My-loh. Somehow, he managed to always make those two syllables sound like music. He made my name sound like poetry.

“No one who hurts you is innocent.”

“You were always my light in the dark. My safe space. Even when I needed a place to hide in my own mind, you were there. You and that pond and those stupid frogs.

“Yeah. Wanna be friends?” My eyes widened, and I nodded frantically. “Yeah, I’ve never had a friend before,” I admitted, feeling embarrassed but wanting to be honest. “That’s okay. It’s pretty easy. You just have to always have each other’s backs.”

I’ll meet you at the pond, okay?

People are not one-dimensional. We’re complex, messy, and most of us are really just doing our best to survive in a world that is often not kind to us.

“But we’re not done,” he says vehemently, stepping into my space. “We’ll never be done. Me and you, we don’t have an ending.”

I was ten years old when I met Lucky. I knew it then, and I know it now. He’s a firefly. Luminous and wild. He was never meant to be trapped. Not here and not with me.

How would I explain my heart doesn’t know how to beat for anyone but him.

He’s lovely in the way the natural world is lovely. Imperfect but vital. Roughly hewn and uniquely himself. He’s just… Ellis. He’s my Ellis.

“I don’t ever want to lose…the place I have in your world.”

“Do you really think anything between me and you could be meaningless?”

I should have known kissing Ellis would rearrange my world.

I’m scared, Luck, but I love you more than anything. I love you, I love you, so please, my beautiful firefly, fly back to me soon. Come back, that’s all I ask. Keep coming back to me.

Death doesn’t erase fear or memories. The monsters that live inside us are much harder to get rid of.

My heart sinks like an anchor that may never surface again.

So being near the man of your dreams feels like a panic attack…only you never want it to end.

“Oh. Okay…well, if you do it again…climb up to my windows…be careful.”
“Afraid I might fall?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Me too.”
Are we talking about windows anymore?

I can feel myself tumbling into an abyss filled with long kisses, breathless sighs, rose petals, and primal thrusts.

I can almost believe this girl could love me, scars, damage, ugliness and all. And oh, how ferociously I would love her back if given the chance.

We have so many fucked-up gray areas between us we’re practically a black-and-white movie.

Most men won’t know how to love her. I do, though. I’m going to love all of her—the good and the bad, the smiles and the fears, the pretty and the dirty.

If you’re not careful around things that can hurt you…they probably will.

“Leave your books home.” I drag my tongue up the side of her throat. “Trust us to make our own story.”

I guess we’re perfect together because her demons are strong enough to wrangle with mine.