Could a dead, frozen heart beat again? It felt like mine was about to.
The wast majority of my thoughts revolved around her as though she was the center of my mind's gravity.
She could stay forever and it would not be long enough.
Perhaps romance always seemed a slightly foolish thing to everyone until one actually fell into it.
I was a predator. She was my prey.
She had changed me more than I'd known it was possible for me to change and still remain myself.
My life was an unending, unchanging midnight. It must, by necessity, always be midnight for me. So how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?
I knew her well enough to see that the sight of so many books in one room was something of a dream to her.
Though I hated her, I was absolutely aware that my hatred was unjust. I knew that what I really hated was myself. And I would hate us both so much more when she was dead.
Her heart fluttered; my dead heart felt warmer.
The sky above me was clear, brilliant with stars, glowing blue in some places, yellow in others. The stars created majestic, swirling shapes against the black backdrop of the empty universe.
