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“It's almost out," the witch hissed, grunting with effort. "Hang on, Bryce." She did. To Hunt, to his hand, to that softness in his eyes, she held on. With all she had. "I've got you," he murmured. "Sweetheart, I've got you." He'd never said it like that before- that word. It had always been mocking, teasing. She'd always found it just this side of annoying. Not this time. Not when he held her hand and her gaze and everything she was. Riding out the pain with her. "Breathe," he ordered her. "You can do it. We can get through this." Get through it- together. Get through this mess of a life together. Through this mess of a world.” — Sarah J. Maas
It's almost out," the witch hissed, grunting with effort. "Hang on, Bryce."
She did. To Hunt, to his hand, to that softness in his eyes, she held on. With all she had.
"I've got you," he murmured. "Sweetheart, I've got you."
He'd never said it like that before- that word. It had always been mocking, teasing. She'd always found it just this side of annoying.
Not this time. Not when he held her hand and her gaze and everything she was. Riding out the pain with her.
"Breathe," he ordered her. "You can do it. We can get through this."
Get through it- together. Get through this mess of a life together. Through this mess of a world.