When the Moon Hatched

Chase death, Moonbeam. And I pray your bloodlust brings you the same sense of peace I feel just knowing you exist.

For those who feel small and quiet. Spread those wings and roar.

He’s fire and brimstone. I’m shattered ice. Our collision is steam and destruction, destined to dissipate, but I’ll gladly burn beneath him until the world comes crumbling down.

Sadness is like stones that stack inside you, making it harder to move.

I’ve seen bigger. But hey, if whipping a female makes you feel like a strong boy, then don’t let me stomp your dreams. Don’t worry, I can handle it. I’ve got enough balls for the both of us.

I’m not your secret. I’m your truth.

Kaan may never know he’s everything to me. That I’d fall just to watch him fly.

Survival’s funny. Some wear it like a whisper, others like a scream. Mine’s a scorched skeleton of flame-forged rage that keeps me upright. Keeps me moving forward.

You can reshape a turd an infinite number of times, but it’s still a turd.

I knew a female who died. Tragically. Whose lifeless body was sailed into the sky by the adoring beast at your back with my torn-out heart in her fucking fist,” he rasps, lifting his hand into a claw that he shakes in my face. “Her name was Elluin, and she laughed with the wind, cried with the rain. She angered with fire and bellowed with the ground.

Your hands know me,” she whispers.  “Yes,” I murmur against her hair. “Know you, crave you, worship you.

I’m done living the life I’ve been told to live and not the one I want for myself.

I think I’m learning how to exist without shackles and expectations. Without the hurt and the crippling fear of loss that hacks my head from my heart. I think I’m learning what it means to live.

Do you want to fight or fuck about it?

So many assholes, so few fingers to count them all.

but I’d die knowing I left something bright behind in this beautiful world sketched in so many shades of ugly.  I also like the idea of being able to fall from the sky and squash somebody if they piss me off.

Say it again …” “What?” “My name, Moonbeam. Say it again.

I hate you,” I whimper, lifting my hips to meet the next heavy thump. “No, you don’t, Moonbeam. You love me. You’re just too busy feasting on my heart to notice.

And if you die there, will you have any regrets?’ ‘Perhaps.’ He shrugs. ‘But I’d be dead.

The only beam of light I’ll ever need or want in this world, my love for her sitting like a moon in my chest. Only this moon will never fall, no matter how hard she tugs on it.

And I pray your bloodlust brings you the same sense of peace I feel just knowing you exist.

I envy the dragons, Kaan. They worship death so beautifully. We just . . . lose. Left with nothing but ghosts and memories that feel like wounds.

Then he asked me what I wanted, and I told him my truth. One three-letter word that weighed too much, being promised to his kin.  You.

Remember my brain’s not as big as yours. If you start talking about biophysics, I’ll perish.

Heartbreak has a tone that echoes through the ages,

Revenge is the loneliest deity of them all, Moonbeam. Take it from someone who knows.

Silence prevails, tension thickens, his eyes burning embers when he finally says, “Raeve, you could flay me down the middle and I’d still fucking love you.

Hindsight. My least favorite way to learn.

The harder you care, the more fragile everything seems. Easier to just . . . Not.