“Since when?” I ask. Silas looks down, the harshness in his eyes softening, and like it’s no big, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, he says, “Since you told me you don’t like the smell.”
“Since when?” I ask. Silas looks down, the harshness in his eyes softening, and like it’s no big, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, he says, “Since you told me you don’t like the smell.”
“You bought a fucking lavender plant? Why?”
I refrain from laughing, because that’s what Rook said when I first told him. My head bobs up and down, a slow nod, confirming her words. “Because you like it.”
“You bought a fucking lavender plant? Why?”
I refrain from laughing, because that’s what Rook said when I first told him. My head bobs up and down, a slow nod, confirming her words. “Because you like it.”
“And a voice,” he notes, and although I can’t see him, I hear the smirk in his words.
“And a voice,” he notes, and although I can’t see him, I hear the smirk in his words.