At my weakest, I wish for him. And at my strongest, I wish I could say it wasn't the same.
I hated that he feels like that. Feels like comfort incarnate.
Kai's harshness can be found even in the slant of his letters, the heaviness of the ink.
I don't envy him. Not truly. Not intentionally.
Kai was the king Father wanted. It was as clear as the obvious distaste they shared for one another. Kai is every bit the brutal, the bold, the foreboding- every bit the king's son. And I think that was exactly the problem between the two of them. Father hated that he wasn't the heir. Hated that the kinghe wanted was thwarted by the son he had first. I wasn't Kai, and it killed him.
🖤💔
"And who might you be?"
- Her gaze narrows atop the folds of fabric concealing the face I know too well. A challenge. I can practically hear her taunting voice echoing in my skull.
(Go on. Tell them who you are, Prince)
"Flame," I say, my eyes never straying from hers.
Her eyes leave mine long enough to roll. My smile is sharp, though she can't see it behind the bandanna concealing the bottom of my face.
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.
~Kai Azer
"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."
🖤🥀
"What else are you when you're around me?"
"I'm a fool."
"Only when you're around me?"
"Only for you."
~Powerless
"you're afraid of me."
"I'd be a fool not to fear something so fierce."
"And you're not? A fool, that is."
"Not anymore."
~Reckless
I've seen trauma take on worse forms. Seen it cripple courage, devour dreams, and spit out the shell of a person. Trauma and I are well acquainted.
"Isn't that what you want?To stop fighting you? Come quietly to my doom?"
I study her for a moment, study the stubbornness sketched into the scowl she wears. The truth has my chest tightening, my heart heaving a sigh when my lungs cannot. Because I can't seem to decide what's more frightening-watching her stop fighting or watching her die.
What is she without her fire fueling her? A shell of the Silver Savior she once was? The ghost of a girl I was willing to ruin myself for? If she fights for nothing, she lives for death. But if she burns for something, she lives for hope.
I want her to fight me.
I want her to burn for me, even if it means with hatred.
🖤
I glare down at the slanted letters staring up at me.
Such angry words. Such bitterness squeezed between the lines of crumpled paper. Who would have thought I'd be capable of such cruelty, such crippling sadness?
(Maybe Father would like this version of me.)
The thought is a bitter sort of betrayal, a whisper of truth tickling my ear. Because this shell of a man and silhouette of a monster-is exactly what he wanted. Not the meekness he mocked, the Achilles' heel that is my kindness.
~Kitt
"She's a phantom in human form. Like trying to clutch the wind in your fist, unable to see it even while feeling it slip between your fingers."
~Kai
"The stars are flirtatious things, always winking down in the darkness."
"My house.My chair.My woman."
~Xaden Riorson
🖤⚡
"you blame yourself even for emotions and you spare people of accusation even after seeing their actions, such a naive, little, stupid human."
a whisper speak in the back of head "Where do you really belong?"
The monster who feeds on tragedies
"The problem with mankind is we too often find our souls to be a fair price for power."
~Iron Flame
"What you want to be does not change what you are without work."
"He might be a weapon, but I'm a natural disaster."
"Everything that can kill you looks so beautiful."
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8vGqQTyQ0F/?igsh=MW51eXd3Z283MWdrdw==
Dear God, please let me have a road trip all to over Pakistan before the end of my twenties.
"And you don't like to lose?
No, you don't"
"How do you cope with this 'addictive personality'?"
Easy.
"Order."
"you prefer order? In what circumstances?"
"All of them."
"And when disorder comes into your life?"
A vision of thick hair- sometimes dark, sometimes blond- smooth olive skin, bare feet, and everything forbidden flashed before my eyes.
The fire in my chest burned hotter. Where pain usually hits me like the high of a drug, whenever Gianna Russo- or, sorry, now Marino- was involved, it felt like the comedown. Nauseating. bitter.
"I fix it." standing, I buttoned my jacket and headed to the door.
"But what if it's not fixable?"
A sardonic feeling bulled in my chest.
"That, Sasha, is when I OBSESS."
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