““I think of her smile, her raven hair, her violet eyes. Her smooth, creamy skin. Her slender limbs wrapped around my body. Her tattoo. Her laughter. Her courage. Her words. We’re soul mates, Thomas. You’re like my favorite song. You have to talk. You can’t live like this. You’re holding on too tight. You remind me of some kind of fire-breather. Layla Robinson, the fire-breather. My fire-breather.””
