The look of worry that I only occasionally glimpsed through his Zen mask had been absent for weeks. He smiled more. Laughed more.
And it made me realize how hard I’d fallen for him. I didn’t want what we’d had for the last few weeks to change or disappear. But I’d lost too many people in my life—and too many memories along the way—for me to think things would always be this easy between us. The idea of losing him made it hard to breathe.
I tried to push that fear away, but it clung like a bad dream.
When I jungle and take the blue buff everytime it’s up:
MAOKAI NEEDS HIS BLUE, yo.
Shit? That’s one of my favorite books of all time. I’m sorry I didn’t adequately warn you that it hurts to read. But don’t most good pieces of art hurt?