hana > Recent Status Updates

“The world has plans for you, baby. Whether you’re ready or not. You can be either a driver or a passenger.”

“I’m a joker, Tate. I’m . . .” I waved my hand in the air. “Just a . . . joke—a joker,” I rushed to add.
She continued to hold me, but I could feel her fingers ease up underneath the hem of my short-sleeved T-shirt.
“Madoc, you’re not a joke.” Her eyes were serious again but softer this time.
You don’t know what I am.

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“My parents could show me a stuffed animal, then hide it behind the couch, and to me, it would be like it just didn’t exist anymore. I wouldn’t search for it. My brain would just flip a switch and move on to the next toy.”
“I’m afraid of that happening again. Specifically with you.You are far too magnificent to stay, Little Nightmare. I think I’m just trying to keep you for as long as I can.”

“It didn’t matter how many girls I kissed, touched, or fucked. I was always left disappointed in the end.”
She rolled her eyes again. “How is that possible?”
I tipped her chin back and brushed my mouth over hers. “Because they weren’t you.” I sighed. “It’s always been you.”

“Did you think that kissing me was going to make me forget?”
“Forget that I betrayed you? Forget that I ruined our friendship all those years ago? Forget that you hate me?” I began shaking my head. “No…”
“No,” he answered angrily. “I’m referring to the fact that you got fucking raped by someone. That’s why you don’t sleep, right? Because you keep having nightmares about it?”

“I thought I saw you with your arms full.”
How long had he been at the window?
I shrug, feigning innocence. “Must’ve been someone else.”
“I reject the notion that I’d notice anyone but you,” he says quietly, piercing my heart with the tenderness of his words.”

“And you, Riley fucking Kelly, are beautiful in a way that’d make the constellations weep.”

“I’m not happy I’m alive. I’m not proud of my trauma, or the person it made me. It hurts, and I hate it.”

RILEY YOURE SO DEAR ME

“She doesn’t look at me like I’m the answer to her problems.” He clears his throat. “She doesn’t look at me the way she looks at you.”
His words fill me with a mixture of disbelief and misery, and a notable absence of happiness. They twist inside me like poisonous vines, racing to see which can reach my heart first.
Because I’m not the solution to Riley’s problems.I’m the root cause.

“But the world has been waiting for something from you, Achilles. For years. Who am I to withhold that from them?"
"Everything," he answers, as if it's the easiest, most obvious thing in the world. "You're everything.”

“Jesus,” Kal chokes, his hand flying to my hair as I push up, sitting back on him, and toss the knife to the floor. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you, Elena Ricci. Do you believe me now?”
“Anderson,” I say, correcting him with a grin. “I filed to have it changed legally.”

“I want to tell you everything about me,” he says “You make me want to spill every secret I’ve ever had, Elena. That’s not something that happens... well, ever. Not for me.”

“Yes, Jesus, please. Right there.”
“No saviors here,” he says, teeth grazing my forehead. “Just me, your husband, dragging you to Hell with him.”
If this is Hell, lock me up and throw away the key.

A sinking feeling weighing in my gut as I remember what else he said to me all those weeks ago.
‘I’m not like the boys from your little private schools. I’ll ruin you and not think twice about it.’
‘So ruin me,’ I’d said, so confident in my ability to withstand it.
Now, I can’t stop wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

She watches Marcelline’s pale fingers brush mine, anger radiating off her supple body in waves, deliciously intoxicating.
Jealousy isn’t a quality I typically look for in a woman, but the existence of it within the spring goddess before me is like fresh soil, ready for me to dig in and plant my roots.

“I just don’t date.”
“Too committed to saving lives?”
Trying to save my own, I think.
But I don’t tell him that, I just shrug again and say, “Something like that.”

She’s still looking at me, like she loves me, but it’s not the same.
My mother looks at Sarah like she’s the most precious thing in the world to her. A shooting star she saw in the sky.
She looks at Nathaniel with this sort of understated reverence.
She looks at me like I’ve done her a sort of favour. She’s thankful for me, but she doesn’t really understand my value.

He grins, dimple illuminating in his cheek. “Sexy.”
It’s a beautiful smile, and it’s a beautiful dimple.

A husky gamer with a C average who never made varsity? He was replaceable; I would replace him.
But I never did. Because I didn’t want someone else. I wanted Wyatt Foster. I want what he felt for me.

“You’re the person,” he says like it’s an explanation.
“What do you mean?”
“People talk about levels of aggression, mimicry, those sorts of things. But if you read about it, ultimately, it comes down to whether you can care about another person. Until I met you, I was a psychopath. And then I was a sociopath.”

“We’re going to get married, Posy. You’ll have my babies. You’ll be happy.” He pauses, pensive. “It’s what you wanted. Right?”
I don’t say anything.
He knows the answer’s yes.
Just like he has to know the answer is “no” now

“You don’t seem to like me very much.” I don’t like the hurt audible in my voice.
“What do you mean?”
“According to you, I’m needy. I’m a clinger,”

“Fuck her a few more times. Get her out of your system. Then get rid of her.”
Posy Santoro isn’t in my system. She burst into life in my empty shell and made it into something. She is my system. Maybe I didn’t understand that before I lost her.

When we first met, she wasn’t any different from anyone else except she played chess well. And then, one day, she won a close match, and she screeched, and I felt it.
It wasn’t novel like a new smell or shade of color. It was like all the air in the world was suddenly tinted pink. Like a glimpse at a new dimension.
I can recognize feelings, but only Posy’s are real. Only Posy’s matter.

“I know that Carolyn bought me all the stuff. You don’t know me at all, do you, Dario?”
I know her perfectly. Better than she knows herself. She’s a tangled ball of self-doubt, foolish pride, dumb hope, brilliance, masochism, and blind affection. And I’m obsessed.
I need her back.

No one ever paid more attention to me than Dario Volpe when we were in the middle of a game. I was the center of the universe, and this exquisitely beautiful, powerful man was desperate to know what I was thinking.
I hate him.
I hate him more than all my exes combined.
I was his toy.
He didn’t love me. He doesn’t even know me. How could he? We never talked about anything that mattered.”

Posy is the only person who’s ever been able to beat me at cribbage. And she’s one of the few who even knows how to play.
I want her back now.

“We’re going on a picnic?”
He grunts in the affirmative and calls the elevator.“Where’s the basket?”
He raises the brown grocery bag.
“So romantic.”
He winks at me. My belly flutters.