Some stories aren't black and white.
They say I tried to hurt my nurse. I tell them they tried to hurt me first.
I'm telling you, monsters aren't born, they're made.
Love does not always begin or end the way we wish it would.
He couldn't say it. He couldn't tell her how much she had come to mean to him. She could destroy him with her rejection. If she had feigned her feelings for him - if he'd bought into her lies and her quest for freedom... He wasn't sure what he would do. He could hurt her.
My heart, independent of my logic, had reserved a place for my tormentor and my solace.