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