Sara Byrom

“I know why you said you don't see a future for us.' My heart races like it's trying to take flight as I blurt out the words.

'Do you?' Of course he isn't going to make this easy. I'm not sure the man even knows what easy is.

'You want me,' I say, looking him in the eyes. 'And no, I'm not just talking about in bed. You. Want. Me, Xaden Riorson. You might not say it, but you do one better and show it. You show it every time you choose to trust me, every time your eyes linger on mine. You show it with every sparring lesson you don't have time for and every flight lesson that pulls you away from your own studies. You show it when you refuse to touch me because you're worried I don't really want you, then show it again when you take the time to hunt down violets before a leadership meeting so I don't wake up feeling alone. You show it in a million different ways. Please don't deny it.'

His jaw flexes, but he doesn't deny it.

'You think we don't have a future because you're scared that I won't like who you really are behind all those walls you keep. And I@m scared, too. I can admit it. You're graduating. I'm not. You'll be gone in a matter of weeks, and we're probably setting ourselves up for heartbreak. But if we let fear kill whatever this is between us, then we don't deserve it.' I lift one hand to the back of his neck. 'I told you that I was the one who would decide when I'm ready to risk my heart, and I'm saying it.'

The way he looks at me, with the same mix of hope and apprehension currently flooding my system, gives me absolute life.

'You don't mean that,' he says, shaking his head.

And there he goes, sucking the life right out again.

'I mean it.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing