As nice as his touch was, it’s not what lingers with me while I work. It’s his words. Two words I tried to shut out, but they cling to me.

What if echoes in my head as I hunt.

What if haunts me through the Narrows.

What if follows me home.

Autor: Victoria Schwab

As nice as his touch was, it’s not what lingers with me while I work. It’s his words. Two words I tried to shut out, but they cling to me. <br /><br /><i>What if</i> echoes in my head as I hunt. <br /><br /><i>What if</i> haunts me through the Narrows. <br /><br /><i>What if</i> follows me home. - Victoria Schwab



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