When he spoke, his lips ghosted passed her own, not quite touching, but near enough to burn. To sear. To blaze across her soul.
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Seventeen years old and here I am, sitting at a small, corner coffee table, glaring at the menu and praying that the waitress waiting to take my order doesn’t notice the unshed tears I’m fruitlessly trying to blink into submission. I am not going to cry. I’m not. I’m seventeen for Gods sake. Not five. Not lost and alone without any means of communicating. No. This place is familiar. This place is safe. This menu I know like the back of my hand. Have read it a thousand times. Can recite in my sleep for crying out loud.
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You’re late. Except you’re not that late so it’s okay. It’s nothing to make a fuss over because everyone is late sometimes, right?
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He kissed her. Not because he liked her, not even because he’d really wanted to, but because a demon had once told him to try.
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His eyes fell on her, still so bright, and she felt that shiver from so long ago creep back through her. Back through the tips of her ngers and her lips, where she sometimes still felt the burn of his soul.
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‘Look, when your friends are sad, it don’t matter if you get in trouble, you have to go make ‘em feel better. That’s your job.’
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Suspect Frederick Hart blinked back at him from his restraints. A tough one, eh. Well, Detective Holt would just have to up his game.
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‘No shoes,’ I grinned, wriggling my toes as wonder swept through my chest, filling it with light, delicious air.
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Rescued as a young boy from his burning Space City, Asher Dow dreams of one day returning to the Cruiser Lullaby.
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I wouldn't be surprised if one day I wake up and find that Jasper actually has taken off to the drive-through.
