Being alone with her is like opening a door away from normal life then closing it behind him.

Sally Rooney, Normal People

R E P E N T A N C E

What moved Ted, mashed some delicate glassware in his chest, was the quiet of their interaction, the absence of drama or tears as they gazed at each other, touching gently. He sensed between them an understanding too deep to articulate.

Jennifer Egan, A Visit from the Goon Squad

SHE was like a star ─ a brilliant light in a dark tapestry. She shone only like stars could and was alone in a way that only stars were. She was a girl of stark argent veins and stardust tears glittering, tangled in her lashes. It was books that made her feel that perhaps she was not completely alone. They could be honest with her, and she with them. Yet she knew that princes on white horses were nothing more than a fairytale. She had seen beautiful boys before, loved them ─ in her heart there was a graveyard full of memories of beautiful boys. Boys with smiles, boys with eyes, boys with knives, and boys with lies. Her heart was full of boys and brimstones ─ starting with her father. When her mother told her stories, she could not believe the man in those stories had been the same as the one who had left a black-blue bruise on her jaw. Hunter Van Dyne had never loved Hope Van Dyne and Hope had been blinded, believing the false pretense of the boy she had once desired only to uncover his skin and find a monster.

That monster's blood ran through her veins ─ and so did her mother's. Her sweet, simple mother's. Her mother who lit up like Christmas lights with happiness at every small thing. Her mother was her rock, her anchor holding her to the bay, chains that bound her to this city. This city was littered with hopes and heels that walked over broken hearts and fists that crushed happiness and lips that stole your breath away. New York was her home and it always would be ─ only wherever she went, she saw her father playing with her and was forced to think if it really had been her father ─ or just a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

Only one beautiful boy had never hurt her. Simon Lewis. She had met him at the beginning of middle school, unmistakably afraid as her mother had just thrown her father out. He'd offered her his lunch when someone had tripped her and hers had fallen. Then he'd introduced her to his red-haired friend, Clary Fray, and she had thought God was real. Her father had just turned out to be poison and He was already guiding her towards honey. And it was ─ after she'd met them, her life was all sunny orange and ocean blue and guitar string scars and charcoal stains.

Only, it was not meant to stay the same.

She was eclipsed the day HE saw her. The uncountable rooms of her heart had all been dead-bolted and shut firmly ─ there was only room for three and they all had been occupied. Her quivering lips and woven a prayer ─ only and lyrical and desperate. And he'd offered her his hand. The heart was a tough organ ─ the toughest; the tenderness was in the hands. Just then something of him had stuck in her ─ like a splinter in a bone. And it stayed lodged in her throat, perched under her tongue like a scream ─ bubbling like anger bubbled yet this was not anger. This was not how anger tasted ─ anger was all metal and rust and blood and betrayal, she would know. This was like the last slice of orange shared selflessly ─ this was something soft. Something beautiful. And beautiful had never failed to hurt her. Maybe that was love, choking sounds, and silence.

ESME VAN DYNE

I always thought that one had to deserve love,
I worked so hard to merit it.

NICHOLAS GABRIEL LIGHTWOOD

I used to invent love when necessary.
When I walked alone on the riverbank.
Or whenever the level of salt would rise in my body,
I would invent the river.

as described . . . .

ALEC LIGHTWOOD

ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD

CLARY FRAY

JACE WAYLAND

SIMON LEWIS

HOPE VAN DYNE

MAGNUS BANE

and other book characters

Nico was near Esme,
as he almost always
was. Like a magnet
clicking into place,
like a sunflower to
the sun. He wound
a long strand of her
pale blonde hair
around his finger
then unwound it,
his eyes shining
with unshed tears.
Simon felt irrevocably
guilty about intruding
on their private moment
─ goodbyes, even when
momentary, made twin
hearts ache unbearably.

─  ᴇxᴄᴇʀᴘᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴘᴇɴᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ

author's note: alright, this is all because of binge reading the mortal instruments

━━ if i could i would use victoria pedretti in every fic of mine. and trust me i've come very close.

━━ dedications: wifey! sqccharine circeology lunarcity- silvcrsouls fairyyloves fairysrot cupidsrot sphaIIolalia flcrescents arrogantgod beyondclueless bludhavens vestalwitch Ayushmitadutta silent_nymelpis satinebones 

━━ warning! this comes with the usual trigger warning surrounding the tmi series. which follow: death, murder, crime, suicide attempts, child abuse/neglect (referenced or otherwise), mental illness, alcohol-abuse, religious conflict, nightmares and terrible family dynamics.