Christine has to go to the bathroom.
Erik has the flu.
Angel of Mucus.
I don’t like your attitude.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” I whispered one night as he hovered behind me while I tried to work at my desk.
Long minutes passed. I didn’t think he would answer. I even had time to hope he might have gone, until I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“Then I’d be alone, too," he said, and he stayed the whole night through, till the lamps burned down to nothing. (shadow and bone, leigh bardugo)
après moi, le déluge
a ruin and rising-centered alarkling fanmix (8tracks)
“This isn’t right,” he said, and in his voice I heard desperation, a new and unfamiliar anguish. His fingers skimmed my neck, cupped my face. I felt no surge of surety. No light stirred within me to answer his call. His gray eyes searched mine—confused, nearly frightened. “You were meant to be like me.”
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