Lj Shen Quotes

You were always mine. -Black

I loved her when I hated her. And I loved her when I didn’t want anything to do with her. I was so crazy about her, the lines had blurred together. Feelings were mixed, emotions twisted together.

We’ve waited a long time for this. I want the real thing. Not the watered-down version. And the real thing is not only beautiful. It is also ugly. I want your truth.

Lust is when you want the person to make you feel good. Love is when you want to make the other person feel good.

No love is fully requited. No love is equal. No love is fair. There is always one side that loves more. And you better not be that side—because it suffers.

I used to think of you as a villain, but you’re not my villain. You’re your own villain.

...love and hate are the same feelings experienced under different circumstances. The passion is the same. The pain is the same.

Apologize for not being mine when you should’ve been. Because Emilia, baby...” I tilted my head sideways. “It was always fucking us and you know it.

Moonshine,” he whispered. “You fill up the empty, dark space—like the moon owns the sky. It is quiet. It is bright. It doesn’t need to be a ball of flame to be noticed. It simply exists. It forever glows.

Stars also symbolize the cycle of life, solitude and gravity. They glow in the dark energy that’s the majority of space, and remind us that even in the pitch black, there’s always something that can shine.

There is nothing more poetically inspiring Than loving the right person At the wrong place At the wrong time

My obsession. My muse. My enemy. “All

The heart doesn’t ask for permission to feel things. It simply feels.

opinions are like assholes. Everybody’s got one, and they usually stink.

Because that was the problem with society. It cared too much about who you fell in love with but never about why. The why matters.

Love is so much uglier than hate because when you hate, you’re not confused. When you’re in love, you’re dumb.

He gave me lies, and for him, I closed my eyes.

I just want you as you are. Broken. Misunderstood. Jerk. I want the real version, the dark version, the one who made me the saddest I’ve ever been in my life, but also the happiest.

Ever notice how the heart is literally caged by the ribs? That’s insane. As if our body knows it can break so easily, it needs to be protected.

Always. Whenever. Forever.

A Story of a Nemesis and a Villain with no chance at a happy ending. Where the prince doesn't save the princess. He tortures her. And the beauty doesn't sleep. She's stuck. In a nightmare

you’re worth more than the sums of your mistakes.

What if tomorrow never comes?” I whispered. “Then, my darling boy, we’ll make the best of today.

You were never a drizzle, Penn Scully. When I fell for you, you came beating down, and I felt you everywhere. You were hail.

He gave me lies, and I ate them from the palm of his hand. He gave me lies, and for him, I closed my eyes

I wish I could rewrite you out of my life But all your pages are highlighted Dog-eared and thumbed to death I can no longer read you But you are still my favorite poem

If you want to be strong, be.

I love her like a slave. I kneel in front of her like a subject. I crawl back to her at night like a drunk and I worship her like a believer.

Sacrifices were like vices. You made them, gave up something good, in order to get something better.

You’re awfully possessive.” …“That’s because you’re awfully mine.

Loving you is like Listening to a song For the first time And somehow knowing all the lyrics

You’re mine, and you hate it. You’re mine, and I’m not a wave you can ride. I’m the fucking ocean. ~ Trent

Every painful goodbye starts with a wonderful hello.

If you love someone, don’t set them free. Smother the fuck out of them until they realize they have no chance of escaping. Yup. That was the sentiment I was down with, a method I was willing to try.

Falling in love was so tragic. No wonder it made people so sad.

Life is like a book, a long chain of scenes threaded together by circumstances and fate. You never know how thick or thin your book is, so you better make the most out of every scene, enjoy each chapter.

I wanted to dissolve into smoke, to crawl into him and never leave. It was crazy, but that was how much I craved this man.

Son, are you gay?” I spat the cognac out, choking on the earthy liquid. Dad remained calm, crossing one leg over the other. “Be frank. You know we don’t care, and we’ll support you no matter what. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.” “There’s nothing wrong with it, all right, but I’m not gay.” He blinked, saying nothing. “Why the fuck would you think that?” “You’re not a huge fan of the other sex.” “I’m not a huge fan of the human race.” “Me either. But then there’s your mother. I am a huge fucking fan of hers.

We will always be something. You might move on and marry someone else, have his children and get your happily ever after, but you will never be completely done with me.

I want you,” he said simply. “Just you. Nothing else. Only ever you,” he breathed out in pain, closing his eyes. “Fuck, Emilia. You.” I

Just because your story had a few chapters where I wasn’t the main lead doesn’t make me any less the love of your life. And you’re mine. This is it. This is us.

If disobedience was a competitive sport, my future wife would make it to the Olympics. And medal.

My heart broke, not because I was sad, but because it swelled so much at the sight of you, I needed more space in it,

Real love was cancer. All it took was one blink, and it would spread inside you like wildfire and consume you. But that was okay, because I had a feeling that unlike cancer, real love didn’t die. Ever.

The world is an unfair place. It does not reward you for being good, or decent, or moral. But for being talented, driven, and cunning. Those things are not necessarily positive. And none of them—not even talent—is a virtue.

Always part ways with people you love like you’ll never see them again.

We fell in love fast and slow. Hard and soft. With everything we had in us, yet we both refused to give anything away.

We are who we choose to be,

It was a receipt for my painting. My heart stuttered. He squeezed my hand in his and smiled. “It’s gonna look so fucking epic in my bedroom, don’t you think? I could fuck you and stare at myself as I do it. That’s some Napoleon shit right there.” It

Ask me what I want,” Vicious murmured into my face. The public display of affection from him—not sexual, not bullying, but pure, naked affection—filled my chest with warmth, but I tried to swallow down my hope. “What do you want?” I turned my gaze to meet his, and suddenly, we weren’t in New York, in a gallery full of people. We were in my old room. Ignoring the party and the world around us, a world that we constantly disregarded when we were together. “I want you,” he said simply. “Just you. Nothing else. Only ever you,” he breathed out in pain, closing his eyes. “Fuck, Emilia. You.” I

The less you said, the more you were feared.

Fear is a prison, and in prison you played by different rules to survive.

It was love at first sight Hate at second Lust at third But four is my lucky number So mine your ass shall be

Why didn't you tell me we were in love? Why did you wait for me to find out When you broke my heart?

We all get old. We all get wrinkles. Life is short. Eat that pizza. Drink that wine. Shut down that bully eejit who tortures you.

Some people just needed a tight hug. Around the neck. Wait, I was actually thinking about choking him.

Why the anchor?" "Because sometimes, it's nice to feel like there's someone who can save you.

Not all love stories are written the same way. Ours had torn chapters, missing paragraphs, and a bittersweet ending.

Because my dad told me good girls like bad boys, and I’m bad. Really bad.

jealousy is the tribute mediocrity pays to genius,

Ask me..what do I want?

the worst day of your life gave me the best version of you

Your love story was no fairy tale. More like a witch tale. Wicked and real and painful.

My wings are not meant to fly,” I whispered. “They’re meant to shield our family.

Pretty lies and devastating truths.

Love is selfish. Love is raw. Love is unfair, and unpredictable, and unstoppable.

Rose LeBlanc got her name for a reason. She was full of fucking thorns. She was so beautiful—so ridiculously, unbelievably alluring—that just like real roses, she grew little spikes to protect herself. Because everyone wanted to have her.

This is why humans invented lies, I thought. No other animal in nature lies. The truth is ruthless. It cuts you open, shoving your face into the mud. It forces you to look reality in the eye and deal with it. To feel the real weight of the world that you live in.

Know what the problem with your generation is? You refuse to understand that love has a price. That’s what makes it significant, pungent, rich. It costs you anger, jealousy, heartbreak, time, money, health…

I love you, Daria Followhill, and I think you love me, too. In fact, I think we fell at the same time. You, like rain, in drizzles, over the weeks. Me, like the fucking sky above my head, all at once, crashing without the faintest chance of stopping.

And if I want to hurt the person, is that hate? - Black No, it's pain. You want to inflict pain on the person who caused you to hurt. I think if you hate someone, you just want them gone. - Pink

Life is full of secrets, and narrow-minded people, and sugar-coated, empty conversations that hold no weight. What’s real is what’s inside us. What’s important is what we feel.

She gives me storm, and I give her peace.

What the hell is he, anyway? Latino? Asian? Mixed Caucasian? He looks like he’s been photoshopped by a bunch of horny teenagers.

Maybe I am the monster. After all, I come out to play at night. But so do you, little one. You’re out in the darkness, too.

You shine, Baby LeBlanc. So fucking bright sometimes you’re the only thing I see.

destiny will find a way to get you two back together. Real love doesn’t disappear. It can turn into hate, and hate can turn into love, but those feelings won’t ever turn into indifference.

If you think you’ve found something good without anything bad in it, it just means you haven’t examined it close enough.

The push and pull was back. She could push all she wanted, but she was going to be pulled back to where she belonged. My arms. I

I’m just not sure how you can be both nice and compassionate and a terrible asshole all at the same time,” I muttered. He smiled. “It’s a hard job, but someone’s gotta do it.

In Japanese culture, the significance of the cherry blossom tree dates back hundreds of years. The cherry blossom represents the fragility and magnificence of life. It’s a reminder of how beautiful life is, almost overwhelmingly so, but that it is also heartbreakingly short. As are relationships. Be wise. Let your heart lead the way. And when you find someone who’s worth it—never let them go.

I don’t think I’m much of a father figure, but if you want kids, we’ll have kids,” he’d told me. “Hell, if you want rabies, we’ll catch it together. Make a day of it.

Vita mia, what is love without a little risk?

Make mistakes. Be free. Be bold. Treat teenage as a verb,

Because sometimes, our favorite things are the ones that make us cry.

Dear future wife…” He smirked in a way that made me want to beg for mercy. “If you think you’re going to give me trouble, think again. I invented trouble. I stir it, I mix it, I fucking fix it. Don’t try my patience, because you’ll discover I have absolutely none.

He was toxic, poison, and he was going to kill everything beautiful in my life if I let him. He was the storm to my cherry blossoms. This

But what are villains, my dear wife, if not misunderstood heroes?

Because at the end of the day, we are all just phoenixes, rising from our own ashes, taking flight to an unknown destination, our wingtips forged by flames.

Any last words?” “I…” he started. “Kidding. I don’t give a fuck.

She’s a work of art And as such There’s nothing more devastating Than watching her break

If you want to look at your fiercest protector, at the one person you can always count on, take a good look in the mirror.

Step Away, Coffee. This Is A Job For Alcohol.

For you, I’ll stop the rain from falling and the thunder from cracking and the wind from fucking blowing. And

Some fairy tales are screwed up,” she adds. She can’t shut up. She’s nervous. Her eyes are still closed. “All the good ones are, Skull Eyes,” I say softly.

Don’t be a Rosie. Be a Dean. If you want something, no matter what it is, go for it. Falling in love is rare.

There will be no one else, Moonshine.I will never let you get over me.

I don’t want to make you forget. I want to make you remember. And I’m about to, Rosie.” He breathed hard against my skin. “I’m about to rewrite the pages of our fucking history, baby.

Contrary to general belief, stars don’t twinkle. There is only one star that sparkles that scientists can agree on. It twinkles so bright, sometimes people mistake it for a UFO. It’s not big, but it stands out. That’s Sirius, and it’s also you. You shine, Baby LeBlanc. So fucking bright sometimes you’re the only thing I see.” - Dean "Ruckus" Cole

Grandmama said that the cherry blossom was life. Sweet and beautiful, but so darn short. Too short not to do what you wanna do. Too short to not spend it with the people…you love.

Spoiler: the princess saves herself in this fairytale.

I’ve loved you in secret, and I’ve loved you openly in front of both our worlds, and if you think I’ll stop loving you if you put an ocean between us, you’re dead wrong.

But if you look closely, you’ll find beauty in the ugliness, too.

What makes you feel alive? Regret. For regret reminds you that life has a weight. Sometimes it’s heavier. Sometimes it’s lighter.

I love you.” He grinned like the boy I was once so desperate to impress. “I loved you first,” I teased like the girl who knew deep down he always liked her too. “Not possible.” He kissed me hard, his tongue sliding into my mouth. Then he leaned back. “I loved you since you told me your friends called you Millie. Even then, when I caught you eavesdropping, I knew I wasn’t gonna call you that, because you weren’t going to be my fucking friend. You were destined to be my wife.

I was mortified by the idea of beauty. It was powerful yet slippery. A beautifully wrapped gift I was bound to lose one day. I didn’t want to open it or ravish in its perks. It would only make parting ways with it more difficult.

Because moments like these reminded me that my life was hard, but not bad. There was a difference between the two. A hard life equaled a life full of obstacles and challenging moments but also full of people you loved and cared about. A bad life equaled an empty life. One that wasn’t necessarily hard or challenging but was devoid of the people you loved and cared about.

if you’re not scared, you’re not brave.

The quietest man in the room is also the deadliest.

I want to be your everything Other than one thing Your past

I want the real thing. Not the watered-down version. And the real thing is not only beautiful. It is also ugly. I want your truth.

You’re breakable, Dean Cole. I’m going to do my best to keep you whole.

The cherry blossom represents the fragility and magnificence of life.

I think I like you," I muttered, pressing my face to his muscled torso in a hug. I felt his heartbeat under my ear. "I think I like you back.

Humans, as a concept, were not among my ten favorite things in the world.

I didn’t want to kiss her. I wanted to zip open my skin and tuck her into me. Hide her from the world and keep her mine.

Don’t baby me. I’m not your home. People don’t ruin their homes; they build them. They cherish them.

Whatever we were, we were toxic. A lullaby on a thoroughly scratched record that keeps hiccuping again and again on the line that you hate. This can’t happen. This can’t happen. This won’t happen.

I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much that I hated you for a while. And now that I know that you are damaged, I love you even more. Perfect things are not relatable. Unbreakable is fascinating, but not lovable. You’re breakable, Dean Cole. I’m going to do my best to keep you whole.

Kissing him was like standing on the edge of a cliff. Nice view, but you knew it was deadly.

It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.” —Leo Tolstoy, The Kreutzer Sonata

There is something you should know before you judge me. I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first.

That’s the thing about broken princes. Not all of them have to die. If their soul is whole, they sometimes survive. Sometimes, they even grow up to be kings. Mine did.

He took a step closer, his breath falling on my face. “You can do whatever the fuck you want. You have a long leash.

I am air. Invisible and insignificant, but vital all the same.

You’re my someone. Always and forever.

Why do you shine so fucking bright? You make it hard for me to sleep next to you.

I’m so fucking in love with you, Edie Van Der Zee, I don’t know where I end and where you begin anymore. I love you despite knowing that it is crazy. That our situations are disastrous. I love you knowing that you should have at least a few more experiences before you find the love.

For a fraction of a second, we were together, and it had felt divine. Not nice. Not safe. Not taken for granted. It was short and beautiful and painfully memorable. Like the tree I was obsessed with.

With Angelo, I felt warm and fuzzy. Under a rich blanket of security. With Wolfe, I felt as if I was on fire. As though he could end me at any given moment, and all I could do was hope for his mercy. I felt safe, but not secure. Desired, but unwanted. Admired, but unloved.

She’s a maze with no escape. An ethereal, steady pulse. She’s there, but just barely. I love her so much I sometimes hate her. And it terrifies me, because deep down, I know what she is. An unsolvable puzzle. And I know who I am. The idiot who would try to fix her. At any cost.

When I look at you, I see something broken that isn’t worth fixing. And you look at me like I’m a cheap thing to replace the expensive one that’s been stolen from you. See, we’re all vases. And you’re the one scattered on the floor, shattered beyond repair. So I’ll let someone else pick you up. It’s really that simple. Have fun with your temporary glue.

He looked at me like I was the moon. Pale and lonely and so far away.

You drive a hard bargain. Welcome to the dark side, Persephone. Leave your heart at the door.

It looks like Brain and Hormones are in for a fight. Just as long as Heart stays out of the ring.

Is it possible to feel your heart breaking, even when you’re falling in love?” I

Even the biggest wave crashes. You're about to hit the sand. I hope you like the taste of dust.

Dance with your demons, love carelessly. Selflessly. And most importantly, love yourself, even at your worst.

You’re a collected debt, a retaliation, and, quite frankly, pretty decent arm candy. Good night, Miss Rossi.

Accepting the face that you loved someone was much harder than falling for that person. It took time. And courage. But when I finally took that time, found that courage, when I finally let my guard down, I'd discovered something spectacular.

You’re my Delilah, Edie, and I’m your Samson. You want to ruin me, destroy me, strip me of my power, and betray me. I should stay away from you, but I want you too fucking much. And when it’s all over, when all that’s left of us is sweaty flesh and shattered minds and torn hearts, you will remember me as the man who made you cry, and I’ll remember you as the girl I had to break to stay afloat.

She had on an OBEY beanie, but had corrected it with a Sharpie so the word was now Disobey. What a fucking rebel. Someone should notify the authorities before she did something really crazy, like eat non-organic blueberries in the cafeteria.

Be wise. Let your heart lead the way. And when you find someone who's worth it never let them go

You don’t complete me, Grace Shaw. You create a better me.

I’ll walk through fire for you.

Life is like a book, a long chain of scenes threaded together by circumstances and fate. You never know how thick or thin your book is, so you better make the most out of every

It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker,” he warned. “Of course it will.” I smiled into our kiss, my lips still glued to his. “Everything with you does.” He

Because the birdsong might be pretty, But it’s not for you they sing, And if you think my winter is too cold, You don’t deserve my spring.” Erin Hanson

Falling in love was so tragic.

Wretchedly gorgeous. Wickedly innocent. Irrevocably mine. Our hearts were tarnished. Stained. And guilty. Unpredictable to a fault. And bound to break.

Broken people do things better; we learned how to make it in life without the missing parts other people have. Because when you’re in the dark, you appreciate everything that shines.

I wish you’d fall in love with me so hard you won’t be able to think about anything else. To eat. To breathe.

The angel on my shoulder was…well, currently duct-taped and gagged in the devil’s trunk.

Moral of the story: clutching something desperately doesn’t mean you’re going to keep it. You might just kill it.

I Hate Being Bipolar. It’s Awesome!

Know what the difference is between you and me, Stardust? You watch me, but I see you. And what I see is your truth.

She was a blank, clean, white sheet for me to scribble on. And I scribbled. On her lips, on her jaw, her neck and collarbone. I jotted my hunger for her in vivid colors as

Where are we going?” “I don’t know.” “My favorite destination.

The only person I needed was me.

Trent Rexroth wasn't a crush. He was the very thing that'd end up crushing me if I wasn't careful.

Forever starts now, Baby Leblanc. With you.

She could tell me a thousand things with her eyebrows alone, this girl. Sometimes I wanted to shave them off just to spite her.

She used to leave chewed pencils on her desk every single day in calculus class. I may have picked them up. I may have saved them. They may still be in a drawer somewhere in my old room.

Listen to me. The two most important decisions in our lives are not ours to make. Our creation and our death. We don’t choose to be born, and we don’t choose when or how we die. But everything in-between? That’s our jurisdiction. We can fill in the blanks as we please.

I am strong, yes. But being strong doesn’t mean never getting hurt. It means having a high pain tolerance. I’m not dumb enough to amp it up.

Turn around and look at me, goddammit. Then you’d see I’d rather see my balls eaten by a tiger than watch you go out with someone who isn’t me

We’re beautiful and ugly and broken… and whole.

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.” —Mary Oliver

Once upon a time, a mere mortal fell in love with a rock god. You probably know this is not a fairy tale by now. Mortals and gods don’t mix.

She’s in my fucking blood,

Confide in me, my hideous little monster.

The Spencers’ bedroom was soundproof, which was something Hunter and I gave Vaughn a lot of shit about. Didn’t make any difference that Baron was Vaughn’s dad—it still must’ve sucked to know someone was fucking your mom so hard she needed special walls not to wake up the neighbors.

They pick you up and pull you out of the mud of your own mistakes. And when you’re not the best version of yourself? Well, they’re still there, waiting, because we’re all fucking human.

Because I had to sell it and lost a shit-ton of money the moment I realized you were going to be my neighbor if I stayed in my current place. Real talk, Rosie, you are all I ever wanted. Even when you wanted me to be with your sister. She was a comforting candle. You were the dazzling sun. I’d lived in the dark—for your selfish ass. And if you think I’m going to settle for something, you’re dead wrong. I am taking everything. We will have kids, Rose LeBlanc. We will have a wedding. And we will have joy and vacations and days where we just fuck and days where we just fight and days where we just live. Because this is life, Baby LeBlanc, and I love the fuck out of you, so I’m going to give you the best one there is. Got it?

I changed my mind about babies,” Emilia said through the chatter, leaning into me. “Maybe not right now or in a few years, but down the road, I want it. I think I really want it. What do you say?” I smirked. Emilia LeBlanc of Richmond, Virginia was asking me to put a baby in her. Then I shrugged and leaned back into her. “Don’t worry. I won’t stop trying to impregnate you, even after you get pregnant.” She laughed. “Deal?” I asked. “Deal.

The thing is, you can't really rely on love. Which is why I intend to offer you something far more consistent. Commitment, friendship and loyalty. I promise to give you my protection, no matter the price. I will never turn our back on us. We will fall in and out of love many times, but I promise to always find my way back to you. To put us back together even when the temptation to break things off is too much. And when loves feels far away..." He presses his forehead to mine, his lips moving over mine. "I will bring it right back to our doorstep.

You should believe me,” she announced, “because in order to destroy you, I need to acknowledge you first. See, in order to ruin a person’s life, you need to hate them. Be jealous of them. Feel some type of passionate response toward them. You stir nothing in me, Vaughn Spencer. Not even disgust. Not even pity, though I really should pity you. You’re the gum stuck to the bottom of my boots. You are a fleeting moment no one remembers—unremarkable, unnecessary, and utterly forgettable.

Snow White waited for the prince. You’ll be the one saving yourself in this story.” I blinked at him, thinking about what my dad used to say, his accent thick, almost as strong as his words. “You don’t need a prince, princess. You need a sword.

We come into this world alone, and we die alone. If we get sick, we fight it alone. Our parents are not there to go through chemo treatments for us. They’re not the ones losing their hair, puking buckets, or getting their asses kicked at school. If we’re involved in an accident, they’re not the ones losing blood, fighting for their lives on the operating table, losing a limb. “I’m here for you” is the dumbest sentence I’d ever heard anyone say.

I love your brother and your father more than I love myself. I would die for them. Fight for them until the bitter end. Go against the whole world for them. But you…” She dragged her face up to look at me. Her eyes were full of tears. “I’ve always loved you just a tiny bit more. My regal, rebel boy. My legendary hellraiser, my sad prince, my unlikely savior, my beautiful, broken Knight.

I love you.” Rosie’s tears curtained her vision. “I love you, Baby LeBlanc,” I said. “So fucking much. You taught me how to love. How well did I do?” “A-plus,” she whispered. “You aced it. Can you promise me something?” “Anything.” “Live .” “Not without you.

Dean ‘Ruckus’ Cole was a different kind of asshole to Baron ‘Vicious’ Spencer. He fucked you over with a polite smile on his face. In that sense, he was the Joker. In his mix of confidence, cockiness, good looks, and money, there was a dash of insanity thrown in. Enough to let you know that he meant every word he said.

Falling in love is when you lose yourself slowly, piece by piece. Infatuation is when you lose yourself all at once. Love is like ivy. It wraps around you, chokes every part of you quietly. It is not patient, or kind, or gentle. It is needy, cunning, and suffocating.

Are you calm now?” Trent’s voice caressed the crown of my head. “Physically, yes. But we’re entering danger territory. I’ve never been in waters so deep.” I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly afraid of being so frank. “Neither have I, but I’m a good swimmer. And, Edie? You’re an excellent surfer.

Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a bit unhinged.” He said “a bit” for the sake of civility. Truth was, you couldn’t be a bit unhinged, just like you couldn’t be “a bit” dead. Being crazy demanded commitment, which I certainly showed.

Buying her shit only pissed her off, and trust me, I’d had my people filling her wardrobe with designer shoes and dresses. She gave them all away to the homeless shelter down the street like they weren’t worth a dime. In fact, there’s a crazy homeless woman in downtown Boston walking around in a Stella McCartney suit and a pair of Jimmy Choo’s, yelling at traffic lights that she was the real Messiah. Yeah.

The sparrow is associated with freedom. At one time, sailors got a tattoo of a sparrow for every five thousand nautical miles they traveled. Sparrows were believed to bring good luck. Sometimes the sailor got his sparrow tattoo even before leaving the docks, hoping it would act as a talisman and help bring him safely home again.

Ask me what I want again,” I said softly, and she grinned, pressing her lips to my chest through my tee. “What do you want?” she murmured. Her hair smelled fantastic. Like flowers and how my fucking pillow was going to smell tonight. “Nothing. I’m done wanting things. I have everything I need now. Ask me how I feel.” “How do you feel?” “In love.” I breathed hard, burying my face in her hair. “I feel in love, and it’s you that I love. So fucking much.

Apologize," I ordered, striding in her direction once again. "What for?"Her gaze shifted, and she looked like she was about to throw a punch at me. "For not kissing me back when you clearly wanted to, you little liar. For fucking one of my best friends. For making that year the worst year of my life since I was nine. Apologize for not being mine when you should've been. Because Emilia, baby..." I tilted my head sideways. "It was always fucking us and you know it.

Some people collect stamps. Some coins. Taxidermy. Fucking cards. I collect regrets. They don’t take up much space, not physically, anyway. But inside. . .they occupy. They eat away. They ruin. Because that’s the thing about regrets. They’re mistakes that left scars. Vicious, sensitive, searing wounds.

And this is the part they don’t tell you about losing a loved one to cancer: They’re not the only people being eaten alive. When they get it, you get it. The cancer nibbles away at your time with them, feasts on the happy moments, feeds off every second of bliss. It devours your paycheck and savings. It nourishes itself on your misery and multiplies in your chest, even if you don’t have it.

In my mind, we were two asteroids orbiting around each other. I thought I was the sun and you were earth, but now I see I got it all mixed up. You were always the sun. And even now, when I look at you, I don’t see regret and pain and suffering. I see the biggest opportunity, the sweetest promise, the road I should be taking.

What helped me go through it was reminding myself of famous people who went through bad shit and were still alive. It was kind of creepy, but it helped. Like, Joaquin Phoenix had watched his brother die, and had to call 911. Keanu Reeves had lost his stillborn baby and the love of his life eighteen months apart. Oprah Winfrey had been a fourteen-year-old runaway after being sexually abused. Charlize Theron watched her mother shoot her father to death in self-defense. These people still lived. Laughed. Breathed. Got married. Had babies. Moved on.

I love you,” I whispered into his suit. My words had life, and weight, and a pulse. I said them again. “I love you, Dad. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He lifted me up like I was a little girl, spinning me in place and burying his nose in my hair. Tears rolled down our faces. The pen bled the last of its ink, marking this page in our lives forever in my father’s office. I knew, with certainty that made my heart swell, that he was not going to replace that carpet. He was going to look at it every day, remember the day it had happened, and cherish it. “I love you, too, baby girl.

if there’s one thing I learned this year, it’s that you rise up to the circumstances when they are presented to you. We are so much stronger than we think we are. But sometimes, we go through decades without having a reason to be tested. The thing about life is, it always hits us. No one leads a charmed life. Even the blond, gorgeous, picture-perfect, popular rich girl harbors secrets. Even the football captain. Even the rich mother of two who married her hot millionaire ex-student. The ballet prodigy. Everyone’s got a story, and we all have chapters we’d rather not read aloud.

I’m kind of hoping it will end like this. You made me happy. Very happy. But…you deserve everything. Wife, kids, a white picket fence.” “And I’ll have all of it. With you.” “You know that can’t happen with me.” “Then it can’t happen with anyone. There won’t be a next Rosie. And there won’t be another story like ours. This is it, Rose LeBlanc. And this is us. If there is no you, then there is no me.” “You know, I always hated Romeo and Juliet . The play. The movie. The very idea. It was tragic, all right. Tragically stupid. I mean, they were what? Thirteen? Sixteen? What a waste of life, to kill yourself because your family wouldn’t let you get hitched. But Romeo and Juliet were right. I was the next eleven years killing myself slowly while I grieved for you. Then you came back, and I still thought it was just a fascination. But now that I know…” “Now that I know that it can only ever be you, you’re going to get better for me so Earth won’t explode. Can you do that, Sirius? I promise not to leave this room until you get out. Not even for a shower. Not even to get you your chocolate chip cookies. I’ll get someone to drive all the way to New York and bring them for you.” “I love you.” Rosie’s tears curtained her vision. “I love you, Baby LeBlanc,” I said. “So fucking much. You taught me how to love. How well did I do?” “A-plus,” she whispered. “You aced it. Can you promise me something?” “Anything.” “ Live .” “Not without you.” “And have kids. Lots of them. They’re fun.” “Rosie…” “I’m not afraid. I got what I wanted from this life. You .” “Rosie.” “I love you, Earth. You were good to me.” “Rose!” Her eyes closed, the door opened, the sound on her monitor went off, and my heart disintegrated. Piece. By piece. By piece.

He came to me in pieces, like a painting in the works. His gray-blue eyes were the first to pop out from behind the fog of fear. They were sapphire and silver swirled together, the color of a moonstone. Next was his straight nose and symmetrical lips, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut diamonds. He was pungently masculine and intimidating in his looks, but that was not what made me recognize him immediately. It was what rolled off of him in dangerous quantities, the menace and the ruggedness. He was a dark knight made of coarse material. Cruel in his silence and punishing in his confidence.

Like you?” My face twisted in abhorrence, spitting the words like they were revolting. Her eyes widened. I shook my head, a dark chuckle on my lips. “You think I fucking like you? Are you kidding me here? I don’t like you. I love you. Even that’s an under-fucking-statement. I live for you. I breathe for you. I will die for you. It. Has. Always. Been. You. Ever since I saw your sorry ass for the first time on that threshold and you fucking poked me in the chest like I was a toy. We’ve been apart for ten years, Rose LeBlanc, and not even one day has passed without me thinking of you. And not just in passing. You know, the occasional she-could-have-been-a-g reat-fuck. I mean really taking my time to think about you. Wondering what you looked like. Where youwere. What you were doing. Who you were with. I stalked you on Facebook. And Twitter—which, by the way, you need to deactivate because you never once bothered to tweet—but you aren’t exactly a social media animal. I asked about you. Every time I was in town. And once I realized you were in New York with Millie…” “Rosie, I bought a new penthouse in TriBeca a few months before you moved into our building.” “Why are you telling me this?” She blinked away her tears, but fresh ones rolled down to replace them time. “Because I had to sell it and lost a shit-ton of money the moment I realized you were going to be my neighbor if I stayed in my current place. Real talk, Rosie, you are all I ever wanted. Even when you wanted me to be with your sister. She was a comforting candle. You were the dazzling sun. I’d lived in the dark—for your selfish ass. And if you think I’m going to settle for something , you’re dead wrong. I am taking everything . We will have kids, Rose LeBlanc. We will have a wedding. And we will have joy and vacations and days where we just fuck and days where we just fight and days where we just live. Because this is life, Baby LeBlanc, and I love the fuck out of you, so I’m going to give you the best one there is. Got it?

I didn’t tell them your secret.” My fingers dug into the wood of the window frame, the splinters cutting through my skin like little blades. The police officers were raiding the second floor, I could tell. I could hear them. They were going to find the attic, and then me. “Tell me you believe me, and I’ll jump.” “What difference does it make?” He bared his fangs, staring at me with forced boredom. The fire spread, licking at the grass and approaching us with surprising speed, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. We were already dangerously close to getting caught. “Because it’s the truth,” I screamed. Our eyes met in the dark and held for a moment. “I don’t believe you, but I’ll still catch you,” he said. “I will always catch you, the fucking dumbass that I am.” “What do you mean?” “You soften me.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to fucking kill you! You’re too fun to fuck with. Now Get. The. Hell. Down.

I'm sorry I was less than you deserve, Tex, but I'm afraid I can't let you walk away from this. You see, it's too good, too rare to give up. I said in the cafeteria you weren't my girlfriend, and you weren't." I paused, watching her face twist with shock again. "You were my everything. Still are, baby. You wanted me to make you feel beautiful, but there's no one half as pretty as you are in the whole goddamn world. Please ..." My voice broke, and I bent the knee, like I'd always planned to. "Don't break my heart so soon after putting it back together." The air was thick in the auditorium as everyone held their breath. I was pretty sure for every second that ticked without her reaction, I lost an entire year of my life. Silver lining: a full minute of that, and I'd drop dead and wouldn't have to witness my own, very open disgrace. Finally, Grace found her voice. "On your feet, St. Claire," she whispered under her breath. "A king doesn't bow to others." I got up and scooped her up, giving people something to look at and talk about for years in this godforsaken town, pressing a dirty kiss to her lips and almost breaking her jaw in the process. "He does for his queen.