- sábado, janeiro 23, 2016
- 3 Comments
Ei, se eu tiver coragem de dizer que eu meio gosto de você
Você vai fugir a pé?
E se eu falar que você é tudo que eu sempre quis pra ser feliz
Você vai pro lado oposto ao que eu estiver?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
Ei, vai pegar mal se eu contar que eu imprimi todo o seu mapa astral?
Você foge assim que der, quando souber?
E se eu falar que eu decorei seu Rg só pra se precisar
Você vai pra um chalé em Macaé?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
Ei, se eu falar foi por amor que eu invadi o seu computador
Você pega um avião?
E se eu contar de uma só vez como eu achei sua senha do cartão
Você foge pro Japão, esse verão?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
Ei, se eu contar como é que eu me senti ao grampear seu celular
Você vai numa Dp?
E se eu mostrar o cianureto que eu comprei pra gente se matar
Você manda me prender no amanhecer?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
Você vai fugir a pé?
E se eu falar que você é tudo que eu sempre quis pra ser feliz
Você vai pro lado oposto ao que eu estiver?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
Ei, vai pegar mal se eu contar que eu imprimi todo o seu mapa astral?
Você foge assim que der, quando souber?
E se eu falar que eu decorei seu Rg só pra se precisar
Você vai pra um chalé em Macaé?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
Ei, se eu falar foi por amor que eu invadi o seu computador
Você pega um avião?
E se eu contar de uma só vez como eu achei sua senha do cartão
Você foge pro Japão, esse verão?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
Ei, se eu contar como é que eu me senti ao grampear seu celular
Você vai numa Dp?
E se eu mostrar o cianureto que eu comprei pra gente se matar
Você manda me prender no amanhecer?
Eu queria tanto que você não fugisse de mim
Mas se fosse eu, eu fugia
- quarta-feira, janeiro 13, 2016
- 0 Comments
“Simon hid the fact that he was inordinately pleased by this. “Are we officially boyfriend
and girlfriend? Is there a Shadowhunter ritual? Should I change my Facebook status from ‘it’s complicated’ to ‘in a relationship’?”
Isabelle screwed up her nose adorably. “You have a book that’s also a face?”
and girlfriend? Is there a Shadowhunter ritual? Should I change my Facebook status from ‘it’s complicated’ to ‘in a relationship’?”
Isabelle screwed up her nose adorably. “You have a book that’s also a face?”
- quarta-feira, janeiro 13, 2016
- 0 Comments
Ian squeezed my hand and leaned in to whisper through all the hair. His voice was so low that I was the only one who could hear.
'I held you in my hand, Wanderer. And you were so beautiful.'
- quarta-feira, janeiro 13, 2016
- 0 Comments
“And he leans in, so carefully. Breathing
and not breathing and hearts beating
between us and he’s so close, he’s so close and I can’t feel my legs anymore. I can’t feel my fingers or the cold or the emptiness of this room because all I feel is him, everywhere,filling everything and he whispers
“Please.”
He says “Please don’t shoot me for this.”
And he kisses me.
His lips are softer than anything I've ever known, soft like a first snowfall, like biting into cotton candy, like melting and floating and being weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s
so effortlessly sweet.
And then it changes.
“Oh God—”
He kisses me again, this time stronger,
desperate, like he has to have me, like he’s dying to memorize the feel of my lips against his own. The taste of him is making me crazy; he’s all heat and desire and peppermint and I want more. I've just begun reeling him in, pulling him into me when he breaks away.
He’s breathing like he’s lost his mind andhe’s looking at me like something has brokeninside of him, like he’s woken up to find that
his nightmares were just that, that they never existed, that it was all just a bad dream that felt far too real but now he’s awake and he’s safe and everything is going to be okay and
I’m falling.
I’m falling apart and into his heart and I’m a disaster.”
and not breathing and hearts beating
between us and he’s so close, he’s so close and I can’t feel my legs anymore. I can’t feel my fingers or the cold or the emptiness of this room because all I feel is him, everywhere,filling everything and he whispers
“Please.”
He says “Please don’t shoot me for this.”
And he kisses me.
His lips are softer than anything I've ever known, soft like a first snowfall, like biting into cotton candy, like melting and floating and being weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s
so effortlessly sweet.
And then it changes.
“Oh God—”
He kisses me again, this time stronger,
desperate, like he has to have me, like he’s dying to memorize the feel of my lips against his own. The taste of him is making me crazy; he’s all heat and desire and peppermint and I want more. I've just begun reeling him in, pulling him into me when he breaks away.
He’s breathing like he’s lost his mind andhe’s looking at me like something has brokeninside of him, like he’s woken up to find that
his nightmares were just that, that they never existed, that it was all just a bad dream that felt far too real but now he’s awake and he’s safe and everything is going to be okay and
I’m falling.
I’m falling apart and into his heart and I’m a disaster.”
- quarta-feira, janeiro 13, 2016
- 0 Comments
Tess, Tess, Tessa.
Was there ever a more beautiful sound than your name? To speak it aloud makes my heart ring like a bell. Strange to imagine that, isn’t it – a heart ringing – but when you touch me that is what it is like: as if my heart is ringing in my chest and the sound shivers down my veins and splinters my bones with joy.
Why have I written these words in this book? Because of you. You taught me to love this book where I had scorned it. When I read it for the second time, with an open mind and heart, I felt the most complete despair and envy of Sydney Carton. Yes, Sydney, for even if he had no hope that the woman he loved would love him, at least he could tell her of his love. At least he could do something to prove his passion, even if that thing was to die.
I would have chosen death for a chance to tell you the truth, Tessa, if I could have been assured that death would be my own. And that is why I envied Sydney, for he was free.
And now at last I am free, and I can finally tell you, without fear of danger to you, all that I feel in my heart.
You are not the last dream of my soul.
You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth.
With hope at least,
Will Herondale
Was there ever a more beautiful sound than your name? To speak it aloud makes my heart ring like a bell. Strange to imagine that, isn’t it – a heart ringing – but when you touch me that is what it is like: as if my heart is ringing in my chest and the sound shivers down my veins and splinters my bones with joy.
Why have I written these words in this book? Because of you. You taught me to love this book where I had scorned it. When I read it for the second time, with an open mind and heart, I felt the most complete despair and envy of Sydney Carton. Yes, Sydney, for even if he had no hope that the woman he loved would love him, at least he could tell her of his love. At least he could do something to prove his passion, even if that thing was to die.
I would have chosen death for a chance to tell you the truth, Tessa, if I could have been assured that death would be my own. And that is why I envied Sydney, for he was free.
And now at last I am free, and I can finally tell you, without fear of danger to you, all that I feel in my heart.
You are not the last dream of my soul.
You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth.
With hope at least,
Will Herondale
- quarta-feira, janeiro 13, 2016
- 0 Comments
