"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

He continues to stare as the young girl hums quietly, while keeping her eyes locked on the book in her hands. At the sound of his footsteps, she suddenly stops reading only to look up and let out a squeal, one that he found adorable. Her already rosy cheeks become even brighter. "Hello." He melts at the sound of her angelic voice and says his next words carefully, softly. "Hi sweetheart." She tilts her head to the side as he unknowingly stares at her with a certain longing. "Who are you?" "I'm Seth. What's your name?" He questions, taking a step into her room. She grins, causing two cute dimples to appear on her cheeks. "Daisy." ~ In which Seth Andrews, who is usually quiet and brooding, becomes captivated by his best friends little sister, Daisy Miller, who believes everyone has at least a little good in them.

𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓; "𝘛𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯. 𝘕𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭; 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧*𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯." 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄; "𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦, 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦." || 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐃 || --- #𝟏 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 (𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓)