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Pestilence, his crown perched upon his brow. War, with his steel blade held high. Famine, a scythe and scales at hand. And Death, blighted Death, his dark wings folded at his back, a torch of bilious smoke tight in his grip.
“She is the embodiment of a bad decision. The twin of danger and desire. The fine line between deadly and divine. And I can feel myself drowning.”
― Powerless
― Powerless
“She said I could touch her when I was sober”
― Powerless
― Powerless
“Will you forever be the prize I am aimlessly trying to win"
"Is that all I am to you? A trophy?"
"Oh, darling, a trophy implies that I won it, earned it, deserve it." He leans in farther, a certain reverence in his gaze. "But if i get to have you, it will be because you let me.”
― Powerless
"Is that all I am to you? A trophy?"
"Oh, darling, a trophy implies that I won it, earned it, deserve it." He leans in farther, a certain reverence in his gaze. "But if i get to have you, it will be because you let me.”
― Powerless
“And when we arent partners anymore? Should I fear for my life?' "That would be wise, yes.”
― Powerless
― Powerless
“Because beasts don’t get the beauty.”
― Powerless
― Powerless
Harriet’s 2025 Year in Books
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