My face is in his hands and my lips are at his lips and he’s kissing me and I’m oxygen and he’s dying to breathe.
The Reestablishment promised a future too perfect to be possible and society was too desperate to disbelieve.
I marvel at the drop drop drops of hot water caught in his eyelashes like pearls forged from pain.
I count my finger to make sure it’s still there.
How different we are in the dark.
They think they can wash away my memories, my loyalties, my priorities with a few hot meals and a room with a view. They think I’m so easily purchased.
A firm man is not the same as a steady one, and a bright light is not the same as a brilliant one.
I wanted only for us to evolve backward, into the version of ourselves that never caught fire when we collided.
Please, he says, please don’t shoot me for this.
Cyrus leaned in. “Relinquish the dream,” he said softly. “You have no hope of mastering me.
He leaned in, so close that he could feel his whisper against her lips as he spoke. “Try to weaponize those eyes against me again and I will have them permanently sewn shut.
I encapsulate a world of nothing.
You could love me, you know.
I’ve been locked up for 264 days.
Alizeh,” he whispered. “Let me make you my queen.
I would marry you,” he said, stepping closer again, coming dangerously within reach. “I’d marry you tomorrow. And then I’d take you to bed. For weeks.
So beautiful I could hardly look at you, even in my dreams. I thought my mind had magicked you to life as an antidote to my nightmares. I never dared to believe you might exist in real life.
Never before had he been so consumed by the thoughts of anyone.
I’m not afraid of you, my dear,” he says softly. “I’m absolutely enchanted.
I am no one’s property. And I don’t care what Warner wants me to look like.
The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself.