“Every time,” he said quietly. “Every time I think I’m missing a piece of me, you give it back.”
There were no words, so she didn’t say any; just turned around in his arms and kissed him on the cheek. He was beautiful under the night sky, the stars shedding their light down over him, gleaming against his hair and eyes and the Herondale ring shining on his finger, a reminder of everything that had been, and everything that would be.
Person: Why on earth do you fall in love with fictional characters rather that real boys?
I can offer you my life, but it is a short life; I can offer you my heart, though I have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain. But I love you enough to hope that you wil not care that I am being selfish in trying to make the rest of my life - whatever length - happy, by spending it with you. I want to be married to you, Tessa. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything else in my life.
I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.
I want everything with you, America. I want the holidays and the birthdays, the busy seasons and lazy weekends. I want peanut butter fingerprints on my desk. I want inside jokes and fights and everything. I want a life with you.
Marry me. Marry me, Tess. Marry me and be Tessa Herondale. Or be Tessa Gray, or be whatever you wish to call yourself, but marry me and stay with me and never leave me, for I cannot bear another day of my life to go by that does not have you in it.
I love you, Roza. I'll always be here for you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you.
I held you in my hands, Wanderer, and you were beautiful.
The world was collapsing, and the only thing that mattered to me was that she was alive.
I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life.
I never loved you any more than I do, right this second. And I'll never love you any less than I do, right this second.
I might be in love with you, but I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you.
I love you, and I will love you until I die and if there’s a life after that, I’ll love you then.
My nightmares are usually about losing you.
eyes had widened, and then he’d laughed, a soft laugh. “Did you think I did not
know you had a secret?” he’d said. “Did you think I walked into my friendship
with you with my eyes shut? I did not know the nature of the burden you
carried. But I knew there was a burden.” He’d stood up. “I knew you thought
yourself poison to all those around you,” he’d added. “I knew you thought there
to be some corruptive force about you that would break me. I meant to show you
that I would not break, that love was not so fragile. Did I do that?” Will had shrugged once, helplessly. He had almost wished Jem would be angry with him. It would have been easier. He’d never felt so small within himself as he did when he faced Jem’s
expansive kindness. He thought of Milton’s Satan. Abashed the Devil
stood, / And felt how awful goodness is. “You saved my life,” Will had
He was wearing that look she found so odd and compelling—that amusement that didn’t seem to pass beyond the surface of his features, as if he found everything in the world both infinitely funny and infinitely tragic all at the same time.
James Carstairs always thought he would die before his best friend. That’s why he always did everything he could for William Herondale, to make sure he’d enjoy the most of his company while he could.
When he was just a little boy, he became parabatai with this rather complicated boy, who couldn’t demonstrate affection for anyone. They became best friends, and they brought happiness to one another’s life.
In his young teens, he would get Will out of all the situations he got himself into (which were a lot). Discussions with Gabriel Lightwood, fights with vampires, broken artifacts in the Institute, Will got himself into all sorts of trouble. And James was always there to help him.
In their teenage years, they’d battle together. They were the perfect team, worked in perfect harmony. Nobody would hurt Will Herondale if he was there to stop it. He had already been fated to die young, but Will hadn’t.
In their early adulthood, he would take care of Will from a distance. Whenever Will got sick, he would find a way to be the Silent Brother sent to treat him. And, when Tessa went into labor, he was there to make sure Will’s children would be born healthy.
In their late adulthood, he would make sure Will wouldn’t get hurt in battles — Will was still an excellent fighter, no doubt about that, but age was starting to come for him. He would also make sure Will’s children wouldn’t get hurt, after all, those small Herondales liked to get into trouble just like their father. But Jem was always there to look after them.
In their elder years, after Will finally settled down a little (just a little), he would watch his best friend live his now peaceful life. He’d watch Will play with his grandchildren, walk holding hands with Tessa, make speeches at the Council. And he would smile, for Will’s happiness was his own.
In their last day together, he didn’t leave Will’s side for even a second. He watched his best friend, now with wrinkles around his blue eyes and white hair instead of black, take his last breath. He played him a song, a song like he hadn’t played for a long time, as if the melody was telling a story — the story of their friendship. And then, suddenly, it was all over: the music, the story, and Will.
James Carstairs always thought he would die before his best friend. He was wrong.