Our lifetimes of combatting one another seemed to flip over like a spinning coin that fell to one side. His lips an inch from mine, he whispered something, not a quote. Not in French. Connor Cobalt murmured, “What’s inside this feeling that screams at me?” His eyes spoke of battles and wins and years positioned right across from me. “Devotion.” He neared. “Fealty.” His lips touched mine. Our very first kiss. My rigid body stayed erect, but I heated like a thousand burning stars. He deepened the kiss, in control so I wouldn’t have to think. I was thinking. I thought about how my mind sparked and blistered. I thought about how his hands commanded the moment as much as his lips. I thought about how he held me like I’d always been in his possession, as he’d always been in mine.
I touch my chest. “Trust me, I know. I’m a sexpert.” I never thought I’d be
able to say that without blushing or feeling ashamed. I bite my gums to keep from smiling.
I’m proud of myself, and it’s a weird thing to be. I revel in this triumph. I’m nearing the last
stretch of a long bumpy road, bruised from falling, but still running. It feels good.
( 08 / 01 ) - to this part-time superhero and part-time fairy who not only inspired me but also made me
laugh with her goofiness and fangirl moments, made me cry as she fought her battles and won them,
made me proud when she finally believed in herself and realized that she’s strong. lily calloway,
you made me love you in ways i never expected. you really have superpowers and you’re truly magical.HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LILY.
Some days I still wonder if i’ve found me. Maybe we never stop searching. Maybe we evolve the way seasons change, seamlessly without really knowing, not until all the leaves have fallen, This is who I am today. Tomorrow I may be the same. But in years, i’ll be someone else. Someone I may like more. Someone I may like less. And that’s okay. Because i’m still living.
30 days of Krista and Becca Ritchie: day twenty six ~ sam x poppy
Poppy’s muscles are relaxed from the booze, and she leans into her husband’s chest. Sam and Poppy hug more than they kiss in public, and whenever they start to have an argument, they usually take it to another room. They’re so normal that having them here reminds me how the rest of us ride these extremes of life, rarely wading in the “okay” content state.
Connor is too conceited.
Rose is too high-strung.
Daisy is too wild.
Ryke is too aggressive.
Lily is too awkward.
I’m too hateful.
Sam and Poppy are just right. And I wonder if they’re the ideal we should all be striving for. Or if we should just accept our nature and continue as we are.
“Lil.” His voice cracks. “Why are you crying?” He rubs my tears with his thumb, concern and hurt crossing his beautiful face.
“I don’t deserve you,” I say softly, our legs tangled together.
His glare could murder a family of geese, but the familiar sight is more than comforting. “Then we’re two undeserving individuals because I sure as hell don’t deserve you, Lily Hale. You help me every day stay sane and sober. I couldn’t live this life alone.” His thumb skims my wet cheeks. “And you know what?”
“What?” I whisper.
“The world went and fucked itself because the two most undeserving people got more than they deserved.”
EXPLAIN THE REASON WHY (warning: my explanation is kinda long)
There was a time where I had no idea who Daisy Calloway was. But I know her now. She’s my exuberant little sister, and i’ve grown to love her more than blood. I love her as a friend, and I selfishly don’t want to let her go.
(Addicted After All chapter 21: throwback to Lily and Lo’s first “wedding”)
“Do you remember the Cayman Islands trip?” Lily asks, staring at the water in reverence.
My heart pounds, an added beat, happy it’s her. Here. With me. “When we were seven?” I think hard, trying to wash away the blurry haze of our childhood.
She nods. “Our dads had a business trip for the week, and they brought us on this yacht.”
It starts coming back. We were carted around to most of their meetings instead of being kept in daycare. Just us two and a ton of older cigar-smoking men. “We built a fort in the bow with couch cushions,” I recall. I smile at the image of her thin build and big eyes. She was quiet and shy and when the stewards came around to ask us if we’d like any drinks, she’d whisper her order in my ear.
I also can’t remember a night where we didn’t sleep in the same bed. Innocent sleepovers. At first they all were, and somewhere along the way, we changed.I fell in love with her.
I’d like to return to when I was just ten and tell myself that this loathsome neighbor boy would always be a part of our lives.
Loren Hale would always be one of us.
Maybe not a Calloway sister, but the closest thing to one.