BookDragon

Oscar Wilde

He leans in, his lips brushing mine. “Fuck the usual. I don’t want to be picture-perfect with you. I want to be a fucking mosaic, made up of broken pieces so damn colorful, you can’t help finding them beautiful.”

 He brushes my hair to the side, hitting me with a stunning smile. “I’m ready to drag you to hell before returning you back to heaven where you belong.”

Twisted though it may be, that was the power of love. It could usher in warmth and light, and it could also turn a single ember into a raging inferno, destroying those who threatened it. Love might be the worst sin of them all, with its two sides.

kingdom of the feared

kingdom of the cursed

 The shocked roar of the crowd rolls around me, but none of them are more shocked than I am. I try to open my eyes, try to sit up, but darkness crowds in at the edges of my vision and drags me under.

 An annoying half-smile ghosted across his face. He leaned in close, his voice dropping impossibly low. “Love and hate are both rooted in passion.” His lips whispered across my jaw as he slowly brought them to my ear. My breath caught from his nearness, his heat. He drew back enough to meet my gaze, his attention falling to my mouth. For a moment, I thought he was going to tip my face up to his, run his tongue over the seam of my lips and taste my lies. “Strange how that line becomes blurred over time.”

So make it worth the pain

V.E. Schwab (this savage song)

it ends with us (colleen hoover)

“What’s your tattoo?” I asked quietly, remembering how my friend noticed he had one. He didn’t say anything for a moment, or ask how I knew, but then he answered, “A decaying snowflake.” I raised my eyebrows. A decaying… “Why?” I asked. “Because of Winter by Walter de la Mare,” he replied softly. “Something still beautiful, even after what I did to her.”