Your Snow-Kissed snippet for the day: She tried to stir when he settled his arm over her shoulders. “Kurt, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Oh, because you think I think it’s a good idea? It’s suicidal. But he said, “I don’t mean to be rude, Kai, but it’s way the f* better than your last one.” Which was probably the wrong thing to say on his part, too, but she shut up, and they sipped hot chocolate and watched the snow. He hadn’t really meant to shut her up; he was pretty sure he would like for her to talk to him, if she was in a place where she could talk without screaming again. But—her body felt so damn warm against his. Why risk it moving away? He let it soak into him, the warmth of her, the scent of her hair, like rain at last on parched earth. Oh, thank God, thank God, thank God . . . And underneath the relief, the soul of a grown man who wanted to curl himself into a fetal ball in a dark place and whimper as torturers grabbed at him and hauled him away: Oh, God, please don’t let it hurt as much as last time.
Posted on: Wed, 04 Sep 2013 12:36:49 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015