"You should know not to come into the house of the enemy, all alone, unprotected. And you should know never to sneak up on a predator. Once we catch up the scent of your blood, it's a matter of the hunt."
He moved the knife again a spot near the base of her neck. "And this... you know what happens if I cut you here?"
Morana stayed silent, just watching him, his voice taunting, almost seductive with the temtation of death.
"you'll feel pain," he continued, undaunted. "Bleeding to death. You will feel every drop of blood that leaves your body." His voice rolled over her skin. "Death will come, but much, much later. And the pain will be excruciating."
~Tristian Caine
🖤
Tristan 'The Predator' Caine.
They called him the predator. His reputation preceded him. He rarely went on the hunt but when he did, it was over. When he did, he went straight for the jugular. No distractions. No playing around. For all his unruffled attitude, the man was more lethal than the knife cutting into her thigh.
He was also the reason she had come to the party.
She was going to kill Tristan Caine.
(I am very much happy with the start 🖤)
"You have no idea what you do to me, Àle. I would destroy the world if it would please you. I would ruin every man who thought he could have you."
~Dom 🖤
I was tired of fighting against the tide when I just wanted to sink into oblivion.
"That was the irony of life. People always reminisced about the good old days, but we never appreciated living in those days until they were gone."
~ Alexandera
"No matter how solid the rock, waves would eventually erode it through sheer persistence. It was a law of nature, unstoppable and inevitable."
~Alexandra Davenport
"Let me go"
My grip tightened. She wasn't talking about just this moment, and we both knew it.
"I wish I could." It would be easier if I never fell for her.I went into our first meeting determined to hate her, not knowing she would be the one who showed me what real love was instead. I might not have expressed it as often as I should've, but she'd always been the sun keeping my world in orbit.
I hated the effect he had on me. I hated how my eyes always went to him in a room full of people and how I couldn't stop thinking about him no matter how hard I tried. Most of all, I hated how I couldn't hate him, not even a little bit. No matter how many times he broke my heart, there would always be a piece that belonged to him.
"What are you doing here anyway? Don't tell me you're stalking me" I wouldn't put it past him He would go to any length to win.
A touch of visible amusement cooled his anger. "The bar is down the street from my office, amor, I had a client meeting here."
"Oh." Right. I'd picked the bar out of a list of "best happy hour spots in the city" and completely forgot it was so close to Dominic's workplace.
His expression softened. "Ask me again on another day, and my answer might be different. I would stalk you if it meant you'd talk to me again."
"How romantic."
m past romantic, Alessandra. I'm desperate."
✨
Dominic wasn't the boy who gave himself a hundred paper cuts making origami versions of my favorite flowers for my birthday, and I wasn't the girl who floated through life with stars and dreams in her eyes.
"I don't have the money to buy you all the flowers you deserve yet," he said, sounding so solemn and formal I couldn't help but smile at the contrast between his tone and the far of colorful paper flowers in his hands "So I made them instead." My breath caught in my throat. "Dom.."
There must've been hundreds of flowers in there.I didn't want to think about how long it took him to make them.
"Happy birthday, amor.One day, I'll buy you a thousand real roses. I promise."
🖤
You said you'd be there when I need you most of all the times
And I believe it, like I believe on the stars' shine
But now at here when, I am burning like a match burn with oil
All I taste is ashes of my own mind
All I see is memories playing on smoke screen
All I hear is, my agony, my screams, and my cries
And I waited till the last flame of my life
In a hope to die, drowning in your warm eyes
But I burnt with lack of any of your sign
in a cold death, Ironically caused by fire.
“People remember leaders, not voters.”
Kai Young
I’d been drowning alone for years, and being with him was the only time I could breathe.
A burst of rich, creamy laughter spilled through the air, shattering my
concentration.
I glanced up with a touch of annoyance. I’d been making decent progress
on my translation of The Art of War before I’d been rudely interrupted.
I scanned the bar, my eyes settling on the one person I’d never seen before. Purple-black hair, tanned skin, incredible curves poured into Valhalla’s signature black staff uniform. Silver earrings glinted in her ears, and when she lifted her hand to brush a lock of hair out of her eye, I spotted the dark swirls of a tattoo on her inner wrist.
Her coworker said something, and another burst of mirth poured out of her.Even if it hadn’t, I would’ve known she was the laugh’s owner.
تم فرماؤ کیا ہم تمھیں بتا دیں کہ سب سے بڑھ کر ناقص عمل کن کے ہیں۔ ان کے جن کی ساری کوشش دنیا کی زندگی میں گم گئی اور وہ اس خیال میں ہیں کہ اچھا کام کر رہے ہیں۔
~الکھف
"You want the world to think you have no heart when in reality, you have a multilayered one: a heart of gold encased in a heart of ice. And the one thing all hearts of gold have in common? They crave love."
~Twisted Love
“What’s your biggest fear?”
“A life without purpose.” Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. The reply sounded so generic, like something a college freshman would spout in philosophy class, but that didn’t make it any less true.
“It’s not a concrete fear, like falling onto the subway tracks or having an air conditioner fall on my head, “But I don’t know. The thought of dying without achieving something is…” Depressing. Suffocating. Terrifying. “Stressful. Especially in a city like New York, you know? Everyone here seems to know what they’re doing or at least what they want to be doing. They live for a purpose, not survival.”
Those who are linked by destiny
“The room isn’t a treasure trove. There are
no priceless artifacts or stores of gold here. But if you wanted a quiet place to write…”
The sparks of awareness melted into a golden, honeyed warmth.
I didn’t work well in silence. My doubts and second-guessing festered in the absence of company, growing claws and fangs that shredded my
creativity into ribbons. (This is becoming way too much relatable)
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Sorry! Ap apne item ya profile ko report nahi kar saktey, na hi apne ap ko block kar saktey hain