"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

MAXINE a un chignon trop lâche vissé sur la nuque et des questions dans la tête. SWANN chante sous la douche et gratte une guitare mal accordée. LOU mâchonne un chewing-gum et se balade en culotte dans les dortoirs. NOLWENN fume, boit, sort et emmerde le monde. ALOÏS griffonne des portraits sur des bouts de papier et essaye de trouver sa place. Cinq jolies jeunes filles appréhendent, doutent, espèrent et se questionnent, sur le sexe, les parents, les copains, les copines, les conneries... Sur la vie, tout simplement. ❝ On va piétiner nos rêves avant de vieillir ❞ ❝ Promis, juré, craché sur les tombes ❞ __RoZE__ © tous droits réservés

Gisèle, c'est elle. tu la vois là ? paraît qu'elle est culottée ouais, effrontée aussi, scandaleuse surtout. regarde-la un peu, elle cherche cette Gisèle, je la connais. mais Gisèle, personne ne la connaissait vraiment, en fin de compte.

Elle avait cru que ses lèvres pourraient se déposer délicatement sur les siennes. SNK. Risque de spoils. Histoire courte. ART DE @thisuserisalive

les messages de trois jeunes gens brûlants, lâchés par cupidon, qui tentent d'aimer à la folie sans finir à l'asile.