she flies with her own wings

he fell quietly from her arms. he was a king.

she was decidedly uncomfortable with the switchblade. although she very much liked the idea of it— blue sargent, desperado; blue sargent, superhero; blue sargent, badass— she suspected that the only thing she would cut the first time she opened it was herself.

she was decidedly uncomfortable with the switchblade. although she very much liked the idea of it— blue sargent, desperado; blue sargent, superhero; blue sargent, badass— she suspected that the only thing she would cut the first time she opened it was herself.

Blue was perfectly aware that it was possible to have a friendship that wasn’t all-encompassing, that wasn’t blinding, deafening, maddening, quickening. It was just that now that she’d had this kind, she didn’t want the other.

what a strange constellation they all were

He stopped himself. “This isn’t right.” Blue shook her head. “I just don’t understand,” Henry said. “I was so sure that this was going to… change everything. I didn’t think it would end like this.” “I always knew it was going to end like this,” she said, “but it still doesn’t feel right. Would this ever feel right?”

What a strange, shifting person he was. The Gansey who turned to her now was a world away from the lofty boy she’d first met. Without any hesitation, she stretched her arms around his neck. Who was this Blue? She felt bigger than her body. High as the stars. He leaned towards her — her heart spun again — and pressed his cheek against hers. His lips didn’t touch her skin, but she felt his breath, hot and uneven, on her face. His fingers splayed on either side of her spine. Her lips were so close to his jaw that she felt his hint of stubble at the end of them. It was mint and memories and the past and the future and she felt as if she’d done this before and already she longed to do it again.