“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.”
Naomyje citiralaпрошле године
Because Hawke wasn’t his name. And we hadn’t made love. He’d fucked me.
Naomyje citiralaпрошле године
“Was any of it true?”
Naomyje citiralaпрошле године
“Poppy. Stop—” “I hate you!”
Naomyje citiralaпрошле године
my head doesn’t…go quiet. It replays things over and over,”
Naomyje citiralaпрошле године
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
Naomyje citiralaпрошле године
Sometimes remembering those who died means facing your own mortality,