“But you smell of Casteel.” I jolted at the sound of his name. His real name. “I am wearing his shirt.” “That’s not the kind of smell I’m talking about.”
Naomymembuat kutipantahun lalu
Because Hawke wasn’t his name. And we hadn’t made love. He’d fucked me.
Naomymembuat kutipantahun lalu
“Was any of it true?”
Naomymembuat kutipantahun lalu
“Poppy. Stop—” “I hate you!”
Naomymembuat kutipantahun lalu
my head doesn’t…go quiet. It replays things over and over,”
Naomymembuat kutipantahun lalu
The pain and anger were still there. But Hawke was so warm, and his embrace was…gods, it felt like hope, like a promise that I wouldn’t always feel this way
Naomymembuat kutipantahun lalu
Sometimes remembering those who died means facing your own mortality,