81 Quotes About Dystopian-romance

Haydn snorts. “Only gullible, lovesick fools spout that mushy crap.” Thank the stars that his tone is teasing, because I can sense Logan’s patience waning. “When you find the right girl, I’m so going to make you eat your words. And I’m going to thoroughly enjoy rubbing your nose in it.

Ignoring the pain is more desirable than confronting it. And that’s survival one-oh-one.

Haydn’s instructions are imprinted on my brain much the same way Logan’s face is imprinted on my heart.

I’m not much of a liar. A hoarder, a hider: most definitely, yes, and sometimes I’m dishonest by default because I find it difficult to share that innermost part of myself with others. But never a conscious liar. I don’t think I have it within me to deliberately mislead anyone.

My mind wanders and I drift off into La-La Land. I dream about Thalassic City. About opportunity. And second chances. About actually living.

A craving to crawl out of my skin hits me like a bullet to the chest. It’s not a new sentiment. It’s an urge I feel at least once every hour. A potent desire to be anyone but myself. To live any life but this one.

A loud peel of laughter travels up my throat. Something out of the ordinary has finally happened, and it sends a spark of electricity directly to the dull lump in my chest.

I know I should look away but I can’t. It’s as if my eyes are superglued to him.

Broad shoulders fit snugly under his white shirt, and taut muscles flex in his arm as he grips a tray. He’s not a muscle-bound freak though, thank God. I don’t like that “I have boulders in my biceps” look that a lot of guys seem to favor these days.