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Camille
https://www.goodreads.com/coloursofspring
“The you that you were then, who you are now, who you'll be," he began quietly, as if sensing my thoughts, "I love you. With my whole heart. My whole life, however long I'm lucky enough to get, nothing will change for me.”
― In the Afterlight
― In the Afterlight
“Are you sure this isn't a nightmare? And that we won't just wake up?
Yes.
Because dreamers always wake up and leave their monsters behind.”
― In the Afterlight
Yes.
Because dreamers always wake up and leave their monsters behind.”
― In the Afterlight
“The thing is . . . what they don't tell you about forgiveness is this - you don't give it for the other person's sake, but your own.”
― In the Afterlight
― In the Afterlight
“Liam sat at the edge of the bed, his shape bright against the dark. He held out a hand and whispered, “Come here.”
I swayed a little on my feet as I stepped into the circle of his waiting arms, watching his slow smile. I brushed the hair away from his face, knowing he was waiting for me. This whole time, from the moment we met, he’d been waiting for me to realize he’d known me all along, and he had never once wanted me to change.”
― In the Afterlight
I swayed a little on my feet as I stepped into the circle of his waiting arms, watching his slow smile. I brushed the hair away from his face, knowing he was waiting for me. This whole time, from the moment we met, he’d been waiting for me to realize he’d known me all along, and he had never once wanted me to change.”
― In the Afterlight
“Look,” I began, “I get it. You don’t like me, but—”
“I don’t like you?”
He let out a low, flat laugh. One fell into the next, and it was awful—not at all him. He was half
choking on them as he turned around, shaking his head. It almost sounded like a sob, the way his
breath burst out of him.
“I don’t like you,” he repeated, his face bleak. “I don’t like you?”
“Liam—” I started, alarmed.
“I can’t—I can’t think about anything or anyone else,” he whispered. A hand drifted up, dragging
back through his hair. “I can’t think straight when you’re around. I can’t sleep. It feels like I can’t
breathe—I just—”
“Liam, please,” I begged. “You’re tired. You’re barely over being sick. Let’s just… Can we just
go back to the others?”
“I love you.” He turned toward me, that agonized expression still on his face. “I love you every
second of every day, and I don’t understand why, or how to make it stop—”
He looked wild with pain; it pinned me in place, even before what he had said registered in my
mind.
“I know it’s wrong; I know it down to my damn bones. And I feel like I’m sick. I’m trying to be a
good person, but I can’t. I can’t do it anymore.”
― Never Fade
“I don’t like you?”
He let out a low, flat laugh. One fell into the next, and it was awful—not at all him. He was half
choking on them as he turned around, shaking his head. It almost sounded like a sob, the way his
breath burst out of him.
“I don’t like you,” he repeated, his face bleak. “I don’t like you?”
“Liam—” I started, alarmed.
“I can’t—I can’t think about anything or anyone else,” he whispered. A hand drifted up, dragging
back through his hair. “I can’t think straight when you’re around. I can’t sleep. It feels like I can’t
breathe—I just—”
“Liam, please,” I begged. “You’re tired. You’re barely over being sick. Let’s just… Can we just
go back to the others?”
“I love you.” He turned toward me, that agonized expression still on his face. “I love you every
second of every day, and I don’t understand why, or how to make it stop—”
He looked wild with pain; it pinned me in place, even before what he had said registered in my
mind.
“I know it’s wrong; I know it down to my damn bones. And I feel like I’m sick. I’m trying to be a
good person, but I can’t. I can’t do it anymore.”
― Never Fade
Camille’s 2025 Year in Books
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