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𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐬
24 reader point
Joined on June 2019
Okuma Hedefleri
I polish up my sheen, but you can’t shine shit.
-Punk
“You don’t match,” my sister retorts, and I look up to see her entering the foyer. Match? Like his tie and my dress?
But Misha looks at her and places his hand on his heart, feigning sincerity. “We match in here.”
“You think you’ve made your story long enough for the sun to rise and catch me unawares, but you’re wrong. And it will take only a few moments to kill you, kingling.”
“And you think it was sunrise I was waiting for and not my queen.
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“Why didn’t you hate everyone?” he asks. “Everyone, all the time.”
“I hated you,” Jude reassures him, bringing her mouth to his.
“Once, there was a boy with a wicked heart,” the troll woman said.
“No, that’s not right,” Cardan interrupted. “That’s not how it goes. He had a wicked tongue.”