You know how I feel about your scars. They only make you more beautiful.
He was still a douchecanoe. The douchecanoe who was going to paddle me to safety.
It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, it was the opposite. It was the start of something that would last forever.
No matter what happened, he was Dex and I was Perry and that combination only led to trouble.
Somehow, by dealing with the dead, I had never felt so alive.
I could never forget your voice. You sound like an angel who’s gotten her wings dirty.
You’re a con artist. A liar. A thief. An unredeemable soul. You can’t be reformed. You can’t be saved. You’ll die trying to make the world pay for what it did to you. And you’ll die alone.
And with madness comes the light.
It’s funny what love can do to a person. It strips them of everything, even their instincts. It creates a new reality for you to adhere to, a new world where you break the rules just to keep the love intact.
I used to dream big. It seemed like somewhere along the way I had forgotten about that. And gave up.
If I’m a monster, then you must be the creator of them all. You’re my Dr. Frankenstein.
Love is like a thief, it robs you of all thought and logic, and all you have left is a heart that you can only pray is strong enough to survive the rest.
He slowly turned around. “What is love? In English.” I raised my brows. “Love, in English, is love?” “What is it in Spanish?” I was so enthralled by his hypnotic eyes, I could barely remember. “Amore?” He shook his head ever so slightly. “No. Love in Spanish is you.
She was mine. For the sake of appearances, she was my wife, but she was mine anyway. She didn’t know it yet, but I did. It was wrong and it made no sense, but she belonged with me. No one else, not anyone else.
True love doesn’t have a sick desperation to it, and undercurrent of doom. People who burn that brightly still get burned in the end.
Sometimes you are stuck being the person you are and not the person you were. Or could be.
He lied. I lied. Any love that starts out under a lie is bound to kill you. I just didn’t want to die on my feet.
But I’m starting to think that most villains aren’t evil – they are just misunderstood. Or victims of that most manipulative force: love.