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Day Two 💀💣🔥

““You kept your promise.” Asher pulled Levi into a hug. “You found me.” Levi closed his eyes, his body still shaking, and leaned his head against Asher’s chest. This is wrong. I know it’s wrong. But I need him. No. I want him.”

Day one ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

“I don’t think you’re rubbing off on me,” he mused, tone flat, “I think this is who I’ve always been.”

““People don’t like me,” Shade gave as his response. “They tolerate me.” “Gael likes you.” He couldn’t argue with him there. Gael did like him, but… “He’s the only one.” “Dario seems to like you too,” Apollo corrected. “And Axel spoke highly of you. It’s not that people don’t like you, Shade, it’s that you don’t like yourself. It’s kind of hard to see the world with your head always tipped down.””

“I’m fading into oblivion, unable to keep my senses, but I’m coherent enough to ask the question that has an answer I’m afraid of. “Can we stay?” And in that split second, my heart freezes. Until⁠— “Yes.””

“The decision shaped my rage into something solid and certain in my gut, as tangible as any weapon. There were demons beneath my skin, and they lived to serve my devil. There was nothing I wasn’t capable of doing for him. All I had to do was surrender.”

¡HARPEEEER!

Es absolutamente nostálgica. Siento que se viene una bomba al nivel de un volcán en erupción, un colapso en que se va todo al re carajo, porque un pasado así nunca puede terminar bien.

“I smiled at him—a deceptively calm surface. Like the ocean with its raging, unknowable depths, sharks swam beneath my skin, and there was blood in the water.”

“Jonah called me Devil, and it was far from the worst thing I’d ever been called. I wished he were right, though. I wished I were the devil. I wished I were this vile, evil thing incapable of love. But I wasn’t. I was human. And I craved love so much it made me sick. Maybe, just maybe, he could be the one to love me.”

““Give me that,” I snapped, voice slightly raspy from my coughing fit as I reached for it. He pulled it out of reach. “Nuh-uh. I know you’re not a smoker now, City Boy. These things are bad for ya.” Indignation burned within me at his condescending attitude. “You smoke them!” “Yeah. But I’m bad for ya too.””

“The first rule of running was to never get comfortable. The second was to always keep moving. Staying here this long? I was probably breaking both.”

“Pain. That’s all I feel. With every punch to my jaw, every kick to my stomach, every jab to my chest, it’s all pain. I cry. I scream. I thrash. My nose cracks. Pain. My finger breaks. Pain. My ribs throb. Pain. Levi’s smiling face, contorted into pure hatred, mixed with anguish, coated with joy⁠— Pain.”

“His soul was always meant to be taken by me but not like this.”

“Again, those fluttering butterflies sprout in my chest, but I can’t forget that they’re actually moths. Hesitantly, I bring my fingers up to his collar, feeling the leather under my skin. It’s both rough and smooth, almost like him, and a look of bliss coats his face as I touch it. “Tell me about your darkness,” I dare say, tugging lightly on his collar which causes him to moan.”

“I deposit him on the bed and rifle through my closet, tossing an old sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants at his head. He holds them in shock, eyes watering when they meet mine. Something… sweet takes a hold of me. [...] And, for some unknown reason, some fucked up sensation of losing control that overcomes me⁠— I go to the window and open the curtains.”

“Whistling. This time louder. So very clear. Piercing through my ears and shooting down to the tips of my toes. [...] Suddenly, it all becomes very real. All of those platitudes we tell ourselves are full of shit. The creaking of the floorboards are footsteps. The whistling in the house isn't from the pipes. The shadows that take the form of unimaginable demons aren’t a trick of the light. Nightmares are real.”

“I know I’m staring, but it’s just my body’s reaction. I don’t think I could control it if I tried. It’s like he’s one of those paintings on display at a museum, not because of its beauty, but because of the mystery behind it.”

“I know that tonight is going to be a restless sleep. Whether it’s nightmares or memories, something will keep me up until daybreak. Fracturing my already crippling restraint. Fight it. Fight it. Fight it. But when the darkness calls with its sweet tale, it’s hard to resist its allure.”

“Why I’m with her is a mystery, but I stay. I stay despite the somewhat verbal abuse, the knocks to my weight, and the suspicion. Maybe because I hope she can keep me in line and keep those… unfortunate thoughts [...]. I continue my knitting after texting her that I love her too. I don’t know if I believe it or not. I don’t think there’s any point in trying to fight it. [...] So why does my mind scream?”

““Come back to me,” he said. “That’s an order.” They were just a few words, but Dante heard an endless speech, an entire volume of emotional promises, rage and desperate helplessness he seemed to have endured for a very long time. Despite losing everyone in his life, Dante knew that if he died, someone would hurt. That’s why Dante wasn’t dying today.”

“Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Fucking sorry. That damn word echoes in my psyche—a curse that won’t fuck off. Sorry’s just a word to try to get out of something, to dodge trouble if you’ve been caught out. Sorry’s a five-letter disgrace that shouldn’t even need to be used. [...] If the bitch is sorry, then why is she only looking me up on the internet and not hunting for me? Why isn’t she looking for me?”

Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Fucking sorry. That damn word echoes in my psyche—a curse that won’t fuck off. Sorry’s just a word to try to get out of something, to dodge trouble if you’ve been caught out. Sorry’s a five-letter disgrace that shouldn’t even need to be used. [...] If the bitch is sorry, then why is she only looking me up on the internet and not hunting f

“Because I can’t talk? Because I can’t tell you how fucking breathtaking you every second of every day? Because I can’t breathe without being near you? Someone like me… I’m different—I can’t be normal for you. I can’t defend you without using my fists or my bat, and I can’t touch you at the same time as telling you that you’re everything to me.”

“I did go to my friend’s house the other night, but I snuck out when everyone fell asleep, and instead of climbing in my own window, I climbed right into Malachi’s.”

“Over the past week, we’ve exchanged a lot of messages. More than usual. It’s like after our night together, Kerian has been more open to letting me text him weird shit. He even answers my “How did you sleep?” messages with more than “Fuck off, Braithe.” It’s progress.”

“Oh, uhm. You’re not Zandy.” He says it like he knows he’s in trouble, and I know the grin that crosses my face lets him know that he’s right. “No. I’m not. But you’re still going to let me in.” I don’t even have to push him. He just stares at me with wide eyes and a face that pales slightly as I shove the door open and make my way inside, settling on Zander’s bed. “Uhm. I don’t know… if you’re supposed to be here.”