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Hunt laughed and leaned to kiss the scar. "All right, my lovely mate. No sex tonight."
His mate. His.
And he was hers. It wouldn't have surprised him if her name were stamped on his heart. He wondered if his own were stamped on the glowing star in her chest.
li amo comm aggia fa

"Does it scare you? Calling me your mate?“
Her gaze dipped and she said quietly, "You're the one who's been defined by other people's terms for centuries." Fallen. Slave. Umbra Mortis. "I just want to make sure it's a title you're cool with having. Forever."
He kissed her temple, breathing in her scent. "Of everything I've ever been called. Quinlan, your mate will be the one I trulyl cherish.”
😭♥️

"No," she whispered, closing her eyes. She put her hand on her chest. Over her heart. "I was waiting for you-in here.”
Hunt couldn't stop his own tears then. "I was waiting for you. too.
She smiled, even as she sobbed again.
"Please," Hunt begged. "Please, Bryce.”
😭♥️

Bryce, His Bryce. His friend and everything they had that was more than that. She was his and he was hers, and he should have told her that, should have told her in the Comitium lobby
that she was the only person who mattered, who would ever matter to him, and he'd find her again, even if it took him a thousand years, he'd find her and do everything Sandriel had mocked him about.

Bryce Quinlan tu sei la mia cazzo di REGINA

Lele♥️🫂

Bryce gave a small smile at that.
Hunt grinned. Her little smile was like seeing the sun after days of rain.
questi due sono LA MIA VITA they’re so fucking cute and hot and everything

I see you, Quinlan, he silently conveyed to her. And I like all of it.
Right back at you, her half smile seemed to say.

I understood, then, the immense honor it is to hurt like she does. To have loved someone so much that the taste of maple syrup can make you cry and laugh at the same time.
And I know, if nothing else, I'll have that. I know I've chosen the right universe.
😭😭😭

"Wyn," I whisper shakily. His fingers twitch, tightening through my curls. "Are you saying I can come home?"
"I'm saying it's not home unless you're there."
My arms twine around him, my heart speeding wildly "I love you," I tell him.
"In every universe." He kisses me then. Like it's a first and a last. The end of one era and the beginning of another.
This, I know, is exactly where I want to be.

Only once I'm half asleep, drifting off with my temple pressed to his chest, do I hear him whisper it one last time: "I love you."
Through the gauzy layers of sleep, I hear myself murmur, "You."
piango fiumi

"I love you," he says into my mouth, and I wish I could swallow it, like that would let me keep that sound forever, this moment forever.
My nose burns. My voice crackles. "Don't say that."
"Why not?" he whispers.
"Because," I say, "those words don't belong to me anymore."
"Of course they do," he says. "They belonged to you before ever saw you. They belong to you in every universe we’re in.”

"Sabrina didn't run because she doesn't want you," I say. "She ran because she's scared that, in the end, she won't be worth chasing.”
🤝

"There was nothing bigger than you," he says raggedly. "Not to me. Not ever."
io mo m spar ve lo dico

“Everything's different and nothing's changed, Harriet.” he says.
"I tried so fucking hard to let you go, to let you be happy, and when I see you, I still feel like like you're mine. Like I'm yours. I got rid of every single piece of you, like that would make a difference, like I could cut you out of me, and instead, I just see everywhere you're supposed to be."
💔

"Spent like seventeen years operating on fifty-five percent lung capacity without realizing breathing just wasn't supposed to be that hard. Starting antidepressants was like that for me. I felt like shit all the time, and then suddenly I didn't. And all this stuff seemed possible for the first time. My mind felt ... quieter, maybe. Lighter."
Wyn vita mia vieni qua

"I will always love you," he says fiercely. "That's the point, Harriet. It's the only thing that's ever come naturally to me. The thing I don't have to work at. I loved you all the way across the fucking country, and at my darkest, on my worst days, I still love you more than I've ever loved anything else.”

Wyn's hand moves to the back of my neck, light, careful. "And then I met you, and I didn't feel so lost or aimless. Because even if there was nothing else for me, it felt like loving you was what I was made for. And it didn't matter what anyone thought of me. It didn't matter if I didn't have any other big plans for myself, as long as I got to love you."

My parents aren't people of words, but they sacrificed so much.
That's love, and I hate that I want more from them. That I can't just feel grateful for all they've given me, because at all times I'm aware of what it cost them.
beh che dire

But first I want to see everything."
"Joke's on you," I say. "The periodic table was my boy band poster."
He groans. "God, you're such a nerd."
I lace my fingers against the back of his warm neck. "But you still like me?"
"You," he says, "are my periodic table."
I laugh into his chest. "I don't know what that means."
"It means when we get home," he says, "I'm covering our walls.
in lewd posters of you."

The four of us say good night in the living room, and then, when they close their bedroom door and it's just Wyn and me, I slump against his chest, and he holds me for a long time, kissing my head, rocking me back and forth.
"I missed you," I tell him.
He cups my face. "From the kitchen?"
I nod in his hands.
"Me too."

"I feel bad for all the Wyns in universes where you're with guys like Harvard Hudson. They're so miserable right now, Harriet."
"Or the Harriets in universes where you're with the Dancers Named Alison of the world," I say.
"No," he says quietly. "In every universe, it’s you for me. Even if It's not me for you."

no mi dovete lasciar stare

"Do you remember what you told me'" I say, "about your brain?”
His hand pauses.
"You said it felt like a Ferris wheel." say. "Like all your thoughts were constantly circling, and you'd reach out for one, but it was hard to stay on it too long because they kept spinning.”
The lines of his face soften. His fingers curl, the backs of his nails pressing into my skin, "Except with you. You’re like gravity.”

He broke your heart.
He was never yours to keep, and deep down you knew that.
But the way he's looking at me threatens to obliterate logic, to erase history. If he's a black hole, I've reached his event horizon.
My chest aches, but I don't want it to stop. I want to lean into the feeling, this wholeness. My heart and body and mind are all finally in the same time and place. Here, with him.

When we draw apart, he rests his brow against mine, breathing-hard in the cold. "I think I love you, Harriet," he says.
Love, I think. That's new. And I'll never be happy without it, again.
Without any forethought, any worry, I tell him the truth. "I know I love you, Wyn."
He touches my chin, his hand shaking a little, and slides his. nose down along mine. "I love you so much, Harriet."
SPARATEMI

He laughs. "Everything?"
"Yes, Wyn," I say.

You belong here.

So much of life is waiting for more of him, and even that torture is bliss.
One night, after months of sneaking around, while everyone is home, he offers me a spare movie ticket—a work friend of his canceled-and we leave the apartment together. Outside, he takes my hand and holds it tightly, his pulse tapping into my palm: you, you, you.
😭❤️‍🩹

Our breaths rise and break together, our hands knotting against his headboard as he murmurs into my mouth, "Harriet, finally."
Finally. The word pumps through my veins:
Finally. You. Finally.
I'm on the verge of crying, and I'm not sure why, except that this is so intense. So different than it's ever been.