Stand face to face with your god
Trouble. Reckless.
The words sound juvenile as they settle. She is neither of those things, she thinks. But she does not let slip the edges of her diligently crafted facade. Instead, she lets loose another breath of laughter. As if she cannot make the words make sense in relation to her. (Which she can’t, of course, but for much darker reasons).
She is not reckless because she knows exactly what she’s doing.
And he had not looked dangerous at first glance, but she’d be lying if she were to claim she’s disappointed to find that there seems to be a darkness in him, too.
They all serve their purpose, though.
The ones with the darkness and the ones without.
“Trouble,” she echoes, neither in agreement nor disagreement. She says it like it’s a word she’s never heard before.
She feels him touch her and imagines him coming away bloody. How wonderful this ability to draw blood without any effort at all. To make them hurt simply by existing. But he draws no attention to it and neither does she.
She thinks briefly of her brothers but does not mention them. Instead, she cranes her neck to press her mouth to his chest. “What have I lied to you about, Crowns?”
