Ani

“Why hadn’t they told him that love was not a soft and gentle wind, but a storm determined to rip you apart and build its home in the wreckage? That it brought with it uninvited guests, new fears and worries and paranoias beyond the reach of any reason.
How in those early days, before he knew what was happening, he would lose his breath at the thought of a future without her. A future where the guests would be gone, but so would his new home. The home she had carved inside him, where the air smelled like her hair and the bells sounded like her laugh. A place where he could rest until he was old and weary, where he could only sleep with his hand settled over her heart, because even so many years later, that steady pulse was the only pillar Arin would ever lean on.
Death, he learned, did not change anything. It didn’t destroy their home; it simply barred Arin from entering. It meant years waiting on the steps.”
― Sara Hashem, The Jasad Crown

“Are you going to tell me it’s not my fault?” I shook my head. “No. I’ve learned over the years that people think they want absolution. But that’s not what they really need to hear.” “What do most people need to hear?” For some reason, I had to speak past a lump in my throat. “They need to hear, ‘Even if it is your fault, I will love you anyway.’ ”
― Carissa Broadbent, The Fallen & the Kiss of Dusk

“Ophelia feels like finding another human after months in the desert. A light permeating the thick black cloud. When my wayward mind wanders, it staggers back home to her.”
― Autumn Woods, Nightshade

“I’ve built my walls too high.” “They’re worth the climb.” “They aren’t.” We stop on the mansion steps, his tone soft. “They are. For me, they are.”
― Autumn Woods, Nightshade