Hazel’s flaming hair was the only thing that stood out in the immense desert of snow. Tendrils of red were flying around her head as the wind kept blowing with a fierceness that made her shudder and clench her jaw until it hurt.
I’ll love you back, beyond the barrier of time, beyond vows, beyond pride or rationality. I’ll love the dimples in your cheeks and the cut above your brow. I’ll love your calloused hands and the way they roam my body.
Love me when I’m angry, and you can’t stand me. Love me when I shed all pretenses—when the tears course down my cheeks and my eyes get swollen; when my voice breaks and I swallow back all the words you want to hear.