β°ββ€ β π ππΌππ πππ π½ππΌπΎπ β
γ π¨π§π π¨π’π§π γ
ππππππ, πππππππ, ππππ.
She tried to kill me the first time we met.
Poison. Classic. Really? Slipped right into my drink, subtle as the way she smiled. She watched me lift the glass, waiting. Expecting it to be easy.
She underestimates me.
I should've been furious. Should have dragged her out onto the street and ended her right then and there. But all I could focus on was the way the candlelight hit her necklace, the way the opal gleamed against her skin like it belonged there. Like it was a part of her.
She snapped at me when I called her Opal. I kept doing it anyway. Because every time she got that irritated little crease between her brows, every time she glared at me like she was two seconds from throwing a knife in my direction- I liked it.
Wait no-
I love it.
She's infuriating. Impossible. A walking disaster wrapped in a too-perfect package.
And yet? I keep looking at her.
published on 5.26.2025
ended on ??
book eight of the great war
HISTORICAL WWII FICTION
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