#tuserhana

Higgins was just having his tea and listening to his jazz.

the summer sun was not meant for me. boys like me belonged to the rain.

[image description: a grid of four black and white pictures. the first one is a side profile of a female presenting person. they have long dark hair with moon jewelry braided in. the second picture is of a moon with a sketch effect on it to make an outline interlocking with the moon, like a Venn diagram. the third picture is of a black bow and arrow. the fourth picture is of a silhouette of a deer and it's shadow. end description.]

you will always fall in love and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast. you will always run away with her. you will always lose her. you will always be a fool. you will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear. you have already done all of this and will do it again. I am only here to make sure it happens.

the twist of you in me. the writhe. you're a whip uncoiling in my veins, and I write between the rearing and the snap. of course I write to you. of course I ate your words.

"Knives appeared in Dunyasha's hands, their edges gleaming brightly. "Our work is death," she said, "and it is holy." An exultant light filled her eyes, the first true spark of life Inej had seen in her, and then she attacked."

actors were like oyster shells, she explained. you had to crack their shells and break them open to find the precious pearls inside.

she recognized the strange happiness that came from loving something without knowing why you did, that strange happiness that was sometimes so big that it felt like sadness. it was the way she felt when she looked at the stars.