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Everything was hilarious.
If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry, and I really didn’t want to cry.
But oops, there went the tears.
People had died today.
Blood had been shed.
Pain had been given.
Peter might not wake up.
Rachel is pregnant.
And I’m in love with a broken beast.
I laughed.
And laughed.
I laughed until I cried.
I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.
And then…I passed out.
Chapter Twelve
………………………….
Henri
SHE’D KILLED ME.
Stopped my heart and torn it bleeding from my chest.
Slaughtered me with mere words, then passed out and left me alone.
Alone to pick up my pieces.
Alone to realise those pieces were nothing more than ash and blood.
I stood transfixed as she sank into a deep sleep.
My mouth watered as salty droplets glistened on her cheeks. My torn-out heart pounded with so much goddamn pain.
Her name?
A curse.
The nickname she’d given me?
The antidote.
How could both cripple me so?
Why the fuck did a stupid nickname do such agonising things to me?
