It doesn't taste anything like the drink I had at the party with Tucker. And now, almost two years later, I realize why. Tucker never put any rum in my rum and Coke.
That little stink.
That overly protective, impossible, infuriating, and utterly sweet little stink.
In that moment I miss him so much my stomach hurts.
I don't have to do this alone.
If I had my gratitude journal on me now, that's what I would write.
Hell stinks.
Cynthia HandIf this is foolish, I don’t want to be wise.
Cynthia HandLove is a many-splendored thing," she says. "But it is also a pain in the ass.
Cynthia HandMy mother always says that love is like a snakebite, a venom slowly spreading through your veins.
Cynthia HandMots clés metaphor beautiful-imagery
My heart knows right where to go
Cynthia HandMots clés heartfelt angel-paranormal-romance
I guess I always knew that our time together would be fleeting. Ephemeral.
Cynthia HandMots clés angel-paranormal-romance
We are all connected, everything that lives and breathes in this world, and glory is what binds."
Next thing he'll be talking about the Force, I know it.
Mots clés clara
This is the part where my life becomes all apocalyptic, I think.
Cynthia HandMots clés clara
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