Archer's Voice

I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for what sums it up for them. My word for love is “Bree.”

Ah, God, if she knew how much I wanted her here, how with her was the only place I wanted to be, would it scare her?

I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for what sums it up for them.

I realized that people’s reactions had more to do with them, more to do with who they were, than anything about me.

And then his lips reached mine and I did groan, a breathless sound that came unbidden up my throat.

Goodnight, Bree. He turned back around and seconds later, he was gone. I leaned back against my car and grinned like a fool

Why did you say no? Tell me.

He didn't say anything for a few beats and then, Because I don't want to be with anyone except you. I didn't want her, I only want you. I only want you, Bree.

I thought about how Bree and I were so different… and yet so similar. She carried the guilt of not fighting when she thought she should have, and I carried the scar of what happened when you did. We had each reacted differently in a moment of terror, and yet we both still hurt. Maybe there was no right or wrong, no black or white, only a thousand shades of grey when it came to pain and what we each held ourselves responsible for.

Archer Hale had taught himself an entire language, but hadn't had a single person to talk to.

Until me.

Don't run from me, I said. I can't call to you. Please don't run from me