I looked at her—this beautiful, broken, obsessive girl who had burned her brother’s trust to ash just for a chance to stand in front of me.
I felt her before I saw her. A shift in the air. The scent of vanilla and clove cigarettes.
He hates you now. Isn’t that freeing? No more pretending to be good.
I’ll be at the old train bridge at midnight. If you want to stop pretending.
I looked at her—this beautiful, broken, obsessive girl who had burned her brother’s trust to ash just for a chance to stand in front of me.
I felt her before I saw her. A shift in the air. The scent of vanilla and clove cigarettes.
He hates you now. Isn’t that freeing? No more pretending to be good.
I’ll be at the old train bridge at midnight. If you want to stop pretending.