Micah Nemerever

These Violent Delights

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  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    You don’t need me, you never did, you just get off on knowing you could kill me and I’d thank you for it, it’s a story you can tell yourself whenever you want to feel special
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    He felt gentle and endlessly patient; if Julian had asked, he would have happily cut his chest open and handed over his heart, his lungs, every part of himself piece by piece
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    What a lonely, dreary thing it is to know the truth. What a relief it is that now neither of us has to be alone in knowing
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    It was because he was certain he could only feel whole again if Julian gave him a reason to show up on his doorstep and slit his parents’ throats
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    The real violence was in how gentle Julian was—how near his reassurances came to absolution while stopping just short of granting it
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    He couldn’t bear to look at Julian, so he looked
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    They wanted each other in the way of flesh wanting to knit itself together over a wound.
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    But when they were alone, he could promise himself that he and Julian were each other’s birthright, and that the only unnatural thing was the fact that their blood was divided between two bodies
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    “Tell me you love me, at least,” he said quietly. “Please. I need to know somebody does.”

    When Paul shut his eyes, he could pretend someone else was speaking. Someone he hadn’t become yet; someone who deserved to speak.

    “I love you,” he said, and once he’d spoken, the words took hold of his tongue like a prayer. Julian pulled him nearer, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. I love you. I love you. I love you
  • ♡emma♡has quoted3 years ago
    Beautiful things are supposed to hurt. It’s what I was saying earlier—even if you don’t know how you’re going to create something that matters, you can still want to do it so badly you can barely think about anything else
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