the new is beautiful

(‘Show me the beast!’)
the face in the mirror has waves of thick hair and a smile tinged with lightning. i expected fur and fangs and fury, not crinkles at the corners of his eyes and straight white teeth. the mirror must be broken. monsters have large paws and devil’s horns, not a mouth that says 'i love you’ and a laugh like sunshine.

('If I didn’t know better I’d say you had feelings for this monster.’)
monster? i see no monster here. only a boy with the timebomb in his head running down.

(I’ve hunted wild beasts and I’ve seen what they can do!’)
what? rip the heart from my chest? smile like a snarl and carve the skin from my throat? i am not a damsel in distress. i am aware of what awaits me.

('Remember, the beast is mine!’)
no; no. he is mine to consider, mine to explore, mine to love, mine to leave. mine to kill, if necessary. this does not concern you.

('Kill the beast!’)
perhaps.

perhaps.

—  the beauty in the beast // abby, day 151
8

but if I told you a flower can bloom in a dark room, would you trust it?

at first, no.