That's the thing about trust. It's like broken glass. You can put it back together, but the cracks are always visible--like scars that never fully heal.

I'll always choose you.

Gabe Willoughby

He didn’t save me, though. He allowed me the freedom to save myself, which is the very best type of rescue.

I don’t know you either for that matter. So maybe I shouldn’t trust the words of a man who only recently decided to stitch himself into the picture.

There once was a girl of the sea, who refused to see who she could be. The strength of a world in the hands of a girl, consumed by the curse of the three.

If she could explore and heal his injuries with her fingers, it would be another type of magic, her skin making contact with his. Putting her mind to it, Love would become familiar with his body. She would know him from top to bottom, from beginning to end.

Touching this boy would be the death, and life, of her.