Marie Lu

She’s June, I tell myself on repeat. My lips work greedily along her neck, tasting smoke and perfume

The one who actually matters to you.”
My cheeks warm at the taunt in his voice. “June?”

Please, let it be her.
Did her voice always have this effect on me

He stood close enough so that if I wanted to, I could tilt my face up and accidentally brush my lips against his. My heartbeat quickened at the thought

He’ll listen to you.I closed my eyes and bowed my head. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew that Anden was right

capital. Just the thought of seeing him again leaves my heart pounding, aching from his absence in my life

I can feel his presence here in every stone he has touched, every person he has lifted up, every street and alley and city that he has changed in the few years of his life, because he is the Republic, he is our light, and I love you, I love you, until the day we meet again I will hold you in my heart and protect you there, grieving what we never had, cherishing what we did. I wish you were here.

I love you, always.

“I do remember,” he finally says. I search his eyes for that same aching sadness, the torment and anguish that had always been there whenever we were together. But I can no longer see it. Instead, I find something else . . . I see a healed wound, a permanent scar that has nevertheless closed, something from a chapter of his life that he has finally, after all these years, made peace with. I see . . . Can it be possible? Can this be true?

I see pieces of memories in his eyes. Pieces of us. They are broken, and scattered, but they are there, gradually coming together again at the sight of me. They are there.

“It’s you,” he whispers. There is wonder in his voice.