“When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.”
We read, if we love books, because there is no one among us who hasn’t had a book or a character in a book pick up the fragmented pieces of our broken hearts and glue them back together just by being like us.
“What about you? Any plans?”
Oh, you know. Wander the earth, causing death and destruction to innocent people. Maybe drink some blood. Live forever but never have any fun. The usual.
He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud: I love you; I love you and I don’t care that you’re my sister; don’t be with him, don’t want him, don’t go with him. Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.
I don’t know how to be without you.