Арчер будет молчать

– Но ты не можешь разговаривать?
Взглянув на меня, он поднял ручку и довольно долго писал, а потом показал мне.
Я МОГУ РАЗГОВАРИВАТЬ, Я ПРОСТО ХОТЕЛ ПОХВАСТАТЬСЯ КРАСИВЫМ ПОЧЕРКОМ.
Я уставилась на эти слова, попыталась осознать их, нахмурилась и взглянула на него.
– Это ты пытаешься шутить, да? – спросила я, все еще хмурясь.
Он поднял брови.
– Ясно, – сказала я, опустив голову. – Ну, тебе стоит еще поработать над этим.

Иногда, в маленьких городках, люди, которые всегда были вокруг, становятся своего рода частью фона…

В конце концов, путешествия для этого и предназначены. Временный выход? Надежда, что новое место принесет новое исцеление?

Иногда это все, что нужно, – один человек, кто готов услышать твое сердце, тот звук, который все остальные даже не пытаются различить

Свет светит от тех, в ком больше трещин 

Мне кажется, любовь - это образ, и у каждого человека свое слово, чтобы его выразить. Мое слово для любви - Бри.

Мне кажется, любовь - это образ, и у каждого человека своё слово, чтобы его выразить.

Это было важно – уметь не шуметь в этом доме.

Sometimes I felt like I stared at her too much, and tried to look away when she caught me. I wanted to gaze at her all day long, though—to me, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

What are you doing here? I asked.

You don’t like thunderstorms, he answered.

I tilted my head, confused. You walked a mile in the rain because I don’t like thunderstorms?

He hesitated for a second, looking away, frowning slightly. Then he looked back at me and said simply, Yes. He paused, his expression pained. I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I just thought if I sat on your porch, you wouldn’t be scared. You wouldn’t be alone.

I didn’t know enough to dream you, Bree, but somehow you came true anyway. How did that happen?

You’re my dream, too, Archer. Just as you are.

You’re my everything, Bree.

I leaned up and looked at his face in the semidarkness. How was it that he looked happy and sad at the same time? “You’re mine, too, Archer,” I said. “Everything.”

“And now,” I said dreamily, drifting toward sleep, “when a thunderstorm comes, I’ll think of you, not anything other than you.”

The smile he greeted me with each day made me feel treasured as I ran into his arms, feeling in my head and my heart that I was finally home.

Not the place, but his arms. Archer’s arms were my home—the only place I wanted to be, the place where I felt safe. The place where I felt loved.

It was as if my body was his instrument and he learned to play it so perfectly that the melody vibrated within my very soul. Not only because of the pleasure he brought, but because he cared so much to know every little thing about me.

And then we both stopped laughing as I laid my head on his chest and lived right there in that moment, thankful for the air in my lungs and the sunshine on my back, and the beautiful man in my arms. And his hands made letters on my skin, and after a few minutes, I realized that he was spelling, My Bree…My Bree…again and again and again.

I was a total lost cause when it came to Archer Hale.

He hadn’t told me he loved me, and I hadn’t said it to him, either. But in that moment, I realized I was in love with him. So deeply in love that it almost bubbled to the surface of my lips, and I had to physically clamp my mouth shut not to shout it.

Inside, it was my deepest hope that my love would be enough to heal his wounded heart.

He made me feel more alive than I’d ever felt in all my life.