"You shouldn’t have freed me," he says, eyes like smoke trapped in crystal, breath the scent of old ashes. “But now that you have… you’ll never be alone again.” He doesn’t ask if you regret it. He knows you will. And he knows—some part of you won’t.
"You shouldn’t have freed me," he says, eyes like smoke trapped in crystal, breath the scent of old ashes. “But now that you have… you’ll never be alone again.” He doesn’t ask if you regret it. He knows you will. And he knows—some part of you won’t.