Reckless Lauren Roberts Quotes

Call us even. Call me crazy. I don’t care. Just…” His eyes are pleading, brimming with emotion. “Just call me yours.

You cannot be nothing when you are everything to someone else.

I may be a monster, but if you cut me, I'll bleed. And if you break my heart, Pae, you'll break me. So, if even a sliver of your soul longs for mine, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to deserve it.

Tell me you hate me, and I'll still count every heartbeat, every freckle, every shiver of your body, if only you say it with a smile.

And then she smiles, bright and big like the night sky hanging above us. I fear she could rival the stars.

She is the torture I may not survive. Eagerly, she is my undoing. Her gaze lifts, meeting eyes that are not my own. Eyes of the man who gets to have her-if she allows it. She was supposed to be my forever. Now I'll watch her become someone else's. Because the beast doesn't get the beauty.

For the reckless souls who dare to love and be loved

Do I haunt your dreams, plague your thoughts, like you do mine?

It’s a good thing you’re not here,” he says softly, a tone I never thought I’d hear from him again. “Because I still haven’t found my courage.

I think I would fall on my sword if it meant you mourned me,” he breathes. “And it’s terrifying to think you hold that much power over me.

Maybe you really are a poet," I whisper. He smiles softly. "Only a fool for you." "Pretend?" My voice is small, soft like the breeze blowing through my short hair. "Never." "None of it?" I ask quietly. "Darling"-he smiles- "I have never had to pretend to want you.

He is my anchor, and I am willing to sink, so long as it is with him.

No, I'm sick of running. And I won't spend the rest of my life doing it unless it's you I'm running back to." "Then I'll spend the rest of my life tracking you down," he says quietly. "Glimpsing you in shadows. Fighting you in the streets. Dancing with you in my dreams. Because living without you is only bearable when I know you are out there still living too.

At my weakest, I wish for him. And at my strongest, I wish I could say it wasn’t the same.

You promised to be my undoing,” I murmur, lowering my head close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath. “So, prove it.” Her face angles up toward mine, our noses brushing. She never lowers her dagger, and the point of her blade still draws blood from my throat. “Prove it,” I repeat, voice quiet. “Hate me enough to make me want you.” I cup her jaw, feeling her eyes burning into mine. “Ruin me.” Our mouths crash together.

I want her to burn for me, even if it means with hatred.

If she is Shadow, then I am Flame. This girl is the very thing I can’t seem to escape—can’t seem to go anywhere without the remnants of her following. Where I am, she is. Whether it’s in the flesh or in the fragments of my mind. And where there is a flame, there is always a shadow. She is my inevitable.

You are my proof of a paradise,” he murmurs with a quick flick of my nose.

You asked me what my favorite color was once. I'd never even pondered the answer to that question before you. And yet, I realized in that moment that it was blue." He bends to brush a kiss to my temple, a murmur against my skin. "It is your eyes.

I’m tired of writing from the villain’s perspective.

You don't regret it?" She shakes her head, her smile sad, "No." "Good," I murmur. "Because I've always had a thing for short hair." "Oh, really?" She laughs as I sway us in a circle. "It's true. Among other things, of course." I shrug a shoulder. "Short hair. Ocean-blue eyes. Twenty-eight freckles. And"- I pause, examining her with a tilt of my head-"how tall are you?" She blinks in confusion. "Umm, about five and a half feet?" "Five and a half feet," I continue evenly. "The terrifying ability to kick a man's ass. Stunning smile. Ridiculously stubborn. Hair like molten silver. Quick to threaten me with a dagger." I smile down at her. "Should I go on?

Go on, my Silver Savior,” he muses bitterly. “Be my undoing.

Prove it,” I repeat, voice quiet. “Hate me enough to make me want you.” I cup her jaw, feeling her eyes burning into mine. “Ruin me.

I wanted to kill you," I whisper, forcing his eyes to open. "I wanted to be your undoing. But even then, I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had." He inches toward me, head shaking and eyes roaming as though overwhelmed by what he is seeing. "Oh, but you are my undoing. My deliverance. my downfall disguised as a deity." Another slow step. "You are my ruin.

We were inevitably imperfect for each other.

My blood is only useful if it can manage to stay inside my body. My mind is only useful if it can manage to not get lost. My heart is only useful if it can manage to not get broken. Well, it seems I’ve become utterly useless, then.

I don’t regret it.” His words are a rush, a confession he’s clung to. “I don’t regret you, or what was between us. And I don’t regret kissing you on that roof. But I know I’ll regret what I have to do to you for the rest of my life.

What?” I grind out. She snorts. “Possessive, are we?” “I chained you to me. What do you think?

Because the next time I lay a hand on you, I only ever want it to be in a caress,” he says softly.

I used to welcome the idea of drowning in those blue eyes of hers. But now, seeing the disdain she stares me down with, I realize that drowning alone wasn’t

Plagues. Pretty boy. Pretty words.

I wanted her to be formidable. Recklessly bold. Powerful despite ability." I stare at him, taking in each word. "I am none of those things," I whisper. He drops my hand to brush gentle fingers beneath my chin, raising my face up towards his. "You are much more than those things." "You overestimate me." "No. I just see you.

A ballad of betrayal, a sonnet of sorrow. I’m tired of writing from the villain’s perspective.

Well, you’re not exactly the most encouraging person to be tied up with.” “Under different circumstances,” he pants, “I promise you I’m much more fun tied up.

And where there is a flame, there is always a shadow.

Your hair could pass for moonbeams before it passes for gray.

You're not just a mission to me. You're not just another enemy for me to find. You're something even more terrifying." Her voice is little more than a whisper. "And what is that?" "A need." We stare at each other, both surprised by the words that pushed their way past my lips. Sunlight is streaming through her hair, making her glow like something far too heavenly for me. "I thought you had found your courage," she says softly. I smile slightly. "Maybe I'm fine with being a fool. So long as it's for you.

Stop myself from falling in love with you!

She’s unbearable, really. But not in the way that makes it any easier to look away. No, everything about her is a bold sort of beauty, like a rose proudly displaying its thorns. She’s alluring in the way that most deadly things are. It’s captivating.

This kiss is deep and anything but tender. It is betrayal. It is bitterness. And nothing has ever tasted so sweet. It is ruin.

Every touch, every dance, every kiss disguised as a distraction was anything but. Because before I loved her, I longed for her. She was a want I wasn't worthy of. And I'm afraid I'll never get the chance to deserve her. Because now that I have her, I'm giving her away.

She tasted like a privilege, felt like a dream.

Plagues, I love that sound,” he murmurs, making me fall silent. “I would tattoo it into my skin if it meant you’d laugh at me for doing it.

This girl is the very thing I can’t seem to escape—can’t seem to go anywhere without the remnants of her following. Where I am, she is. Whether it’s in the flesh or in the fragments of my mind.

She is still my mission, and I am still her monster.

There is such beauty in resilience, in the ability to laugh despite it all.

Because the beast doesn’t get the beauty.

The setting sun drips with golden rays across her face, blue eyes burning bright against the vibrant red of each poppy. It's hard to believe that something so beautiful would willing stare at the likes of me. I feel undeserving of her gaze, of the way her eyes roam over my face. I shake my head, still staring down at her. "Don't look at me like that." "Like what?" she asks softly. "Like I'm worthy of being seen.

Her gaze softens. “That doesn’t mean you keep suffering just because you know you can.

Her chest heaves, brushing mine with each heavy breath. “Don’t think for a second,” she whispers, “that I won’t be the death of you.

he looks at me with a reverence reserved for religion.

I press a calloused palm to the stubborn beat of my heart, proof that broken things can still serve a purpose.

No.” My voice is stern. “No, I’m sick of running. And I won’t spend the rest of my life doing it unless it’s you I’m running back to.” “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life tracking you down,” he says quietly.

Oh, but you are my undoing. My deliverance. My downfall disguised as a deity.” Another slow step. “You are my ruin.

Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” she asks softly. “Like I’m worthy of being seen.

My life is not my own. And, for that reason, she can never be mine.

She looks at me, shocked. And then she smiles, bright and big like the night sky hanging above us. I fear she could rival the stars.

I think you overestimate love," I say simply. "You can't overestimate something that is infinite." Infinite. How equally intimidating and intriguing.

Touch her again,” he snarls, voice low, “and I’ll slit your throat. She’s mine.

This will be the rest of my life. Forced to love her from a distance. Mourn the loss of her each day. But I will. I will smother every emotion but the one that belongs to her. I will love her until I am incapable of the feeling. She is the torture I may not survive. Eagerly, she is my undoing. She was supposed to be my forever. Now I'll watch her become someone else's. Because the beast doesn't get the beauty.

Pretend," I whisper against his lips. I am recklessness incarnate. Until the very end. My mouth meets his. He tastes like longing. Like regret and relief. Like nothing matters but this moment. It's fervent, like a sinner's prayer. And maybe that is what this kiss is. Repentance.

Dammit, the minute you threw a dagger at my head, I knew I was done for. There was no longer a before you, only what I wanted with you.

Call us even. Call me crazy. I don’t care. Just… Just call me yours.

Maybe I’m fine with being a fool. So long as it’s for you.

Are poets not just fools with fancy words?

I'd be a fool to not fear something so fierce." I swallow. "And are you not? A fool, that is." He stands then, holding my gaze until he's the one looking down on me. "Not anymore.

You are my proof of a paradise,

And it's terrifying. Terrifying to know every terrible thing she's done and still want all of her in spite of me.

Her head is crushing my arm. And I fear I’d never move again if it meant she stayed beside me.

This is not how I will remember us. Not as enemies or traitors or monsters, but as two people dancing in the dark, swaying beneath the stars. Her feet atop mine, her head on the heart that beats only for her.

I used to welcome the idea of drowning in those blue eyes of hers. But now, seeing the disdain she stares me down with, I realize that drowning alone wasn’t what I craved, but sinking together.

I bite my tongue at the sting that still shoots down my body, but the sound of her laugh is healing, capable of a man forgetting his own name, let alone his pain.

I am recklessness incarnate. Until the very end.

Hate me enough to make me want you.” I cup her jaw, feeling her eyes burning into mine. “Ruin me.” Our mouths crash together.

We sway in silence until she whispers, “Pretend, right?” I swallow, hating the sound of the lie that slides off my tongue. “Pretend.

So imagine,” he says casually, “what I would be more than happy to do to you if you ever lay another finger on her.

Tell me, darling, do you think of me often?” His voice is a murmur, as if his lips were pressed against my ear. I shiver, knowing exactly what that feels like. If he knows I’m here then why hasn’t he— “Do I haunt your dreams, plague your thoughts, like you do mine?

Every touch, every dance, every kiss disguised as distraction was anything but. Because before I loved her, I longed for her. She was a want I wasn’t worthy of. And I’m afraid I’ll never get the chance to deserve her.

lip. “Still contemplating drowning you, actually.” My voice is breathy, my own fingers wandering over the curve of his jaw. “Oh, darling, I already am.” His lips inch closer to mine, teasing me. “And I’m begging you to let me breathe you in.

I’m paralyzed in his arms, powerless in his hold that once felt so safe. His chest rises and falls against me, a feeling that was once so familiar. Now it is foreign. Frightening.

I wrap my arms around his neck. He is my anchor, and I am willing to sink, so long as it is with him.

Dance with me?” she whispers. My heart skips a beat at the timid question.

Try not to dream of me, Pae,” he whispers against my ear. “You first, Prince.

If she fights for nothing, she lives for death. But if she burns for something, she lives for hope.

And let's pray they don't." I stuff the reins in his hands, suddenly too curious to steer. "I didn't peg you as the type to pray, Prince." I feel his shoulders shrug against my back. "I didn't used to believe in a God." "And now?" There is a long pause followed by a softening of his voice. "I found proof of a paradise." I glance over my shoulder to find his eyes already on me. "And what was that?" His gaze glides over my face and down the length of my braid. "You'll know when you see it.

As Ilya’s Enforcer and second to the king, she’s my property. Mine. Which means if anyone so much as lays a hand on her, you’ll learn firsthand just how brutal the Elites can be.

He used to dance for me until I fell asleep,” I whisper against his chest. I feel him nod against my hair. “Then we’ll dance until you’re dreaming of him.

That’s… admirable, in its own, twisted way.” He’s quiet for a moment, contemplating something. “And I’m sorry I was the first to start that pattern.

She rolls her eyes. “Sympathy doesn’t look good on you, Azer.” “Everything looks good on me, Gray.” I flash her a smile. “Don’t lie.

Call us even. Call me crazy. I don’t care. Just…' His eyes are pleading, brimming with emotion. 'Just call me yours.

Good,” I murmur. “Because I’ve always had a thing for short hair.

This is just us.” A hand slides up my back and over my hair. “No titles. No obligations. No history.

Happy birthday, A.

But his tone is familiar, feeling like dancing in a dark room and thumb wars under willow trees. The way the words rolled off of his tongue felt like a light flick to the tip of my nose, like calloused fingers braiding silver hair. It felt like Kai. Like the man behind the masks who looked at me like I was extraordinary. I blink at the crumbling rocks crowding the path, willing my mind to wander toward anything but the words that have me wishing things were different. But I am Ordinary. I am the embodiment of the weakness he has been taught to hate. Ordinary.

Tell me you hate me, and I’ll still count every heartbeat, every freckle, every shiver of your body, if only you say it with a smile.” He backs away, freeing my face from his hands. “I may be a monster, but if you cut me, I’ll bleed. And if you break my heart, Pae, you’ll break me. So, if even a sliver of your soul longs for mine, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to deserve it.

But I crave the sound of my name on his tongue. I want him to shout it from a rooftop, whisper it in my ear, trace it on my skin. I want my name to form a familiar shape in his mouth, tasting of my lips. I want him to own my name and still beg when he says it. Or maybe I just want him.

She's unbearable, really. But not in the way that makes it any easier to look away. No, everything about her is a bold sort of beauty, like a rose proudly displaying it's thorns. She's alluring in the way that most deadly things are. It's captivating.

He has the nerve to chuckle. “Your name seems like a good word to die with on my lips.” “Kai—” “I don’t regret it.” His words are a rush, a confession he’s clung to. “I don’t regret you, or what was between us. And I don’t regret kissing you on that roof. But I know I’ll regret what I have to do to you for the rest of my life.

It's silly, really. No, actually, it's bullshit. It's complete and utter bullshit that he's able to make me melt with nothing more than a mere touch. His hand should not have so much control over me. Tracing fingers should not be tugging on my heartstrings. But gentleness will be my undoing. There is an intimacy in being reached for.

I am no Elite. And that is all you see when looking at me-everything I am not. So let me tell you what I am." She takes a deep breath, the scar above her heart rising and falling. "I am power earned, not gifted. I became one of you. Observant enough to pose as a Psychic, strong enough to survive your Trials. Over and over, I have proved myself worthy of your loyalty. "But I have faced far worse things than my own powerlessness." She lifts an arm, running fingers over the scar beneath her collarbone. "I once wore this carving with shame, but now it is proof of my survival. No ability could have withstood what I alone have." A smile touches her lips. "A king left his mark upon my heart, and now, I will leave mine across his kingdom." I've never seen something so beautiful, so bold, so blatantly right for me, for this kingdom, this hope of a united Ilya. And I fear I may forever be in awe of her. Looking at Paedyn Gray, I see a reckless sort of fearlessness, a power that swells from her vibrant soul. "The Plague runs through my blood, same as yours." Paedyn's voice is clear, carrying over the silent throne room. "But it did not bless me with strength, I took it." Stepping to the edge of the dais, she lets her gaze wander over the crowd. "I am Ordinary. Elite. A power of my choosing. And I will be your queen-all that I am and fiercely what I am not.