When you walk out of your class expecting some cute Larry stuff on your dash and then:

Zayn… diD WHAT


“Will you come with me?” he asked. The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes.” 

[my soul responding, a small playlist for patroclus and achilles; here]

special thanks to the patroclus to my achilles, donnie, for the amazing cover.