z bramy, w której pierwszy raz całowałeś, z podwórka, na którym pierwszy raz się biłeś, z pracy, w której odnalazłeś siebie. Nie wolność jest ważna. Miłość
Siergiej Łukjanienko
aiting to live, waiting to die, waiting to hear good news, waiting to hear bad news. And for once, I really, really, want to be selfish and screw the whole waiting process. I want you. I want you right now. I want you in every way a man could want a woman. I want you every second of every day. I want to give you my name. I want to live with you. I want to take care of you. I want to have kids with you. I want to massage your feet after a hard day. I want to hug you when you’re sad. I want to hold your hand when you’re sick. I want to hold you in my arms and never let go—even waking up in the morning with our bodies intertwined, won’t be enough for me. Breathing your air destroys me because I can taste you in everything—even when your lips aren’t anywhere near mine—damn, I can taste them, I taste you. I want you so deeply etched in my soul that I don’t know where I end and you begin. So, Kiersten, I’m going to pull the whole “I was dying and this is my dying wish card”—because every day I’m not with you. Every day that goes by when I don’t get to share every single moment with you…is like waiting to die all over again. So, will you marry me? Not in another eight months—will you marry me….now?”
“How…” Kiersten’s hoarse voice shook. “How in the world do you expect me to answer that?”
My chest ached deep inside like I’d held my breath for too long and my lungs were about to explode. Was she rejecting my proposal?
“I would have married you the second you asked, Wes. Had the doctors said they could only keep you alive for five minutes, I would have spent those five minutes in your arms—loving you. Time is precious—and I want to give you all of mine. So marrying you today? Even if I was in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt. Even if I was running a fever or got hit by a car…I’d do it. I love you. My heart’s been yours since the minute you needed it to beat for you.
Rachel Van Dyken
Siergiej Łukjanienko
aiting to live, waiting to die, waiting to hear good news, waiting to hear bad news. And for once, I really, really, want to be selfish and screw the whole waiting process. I want you. I want you right now. I want you in every way a man could want a woman. I want you every second of every day. I want to give you my name. I want to live with you. I want to take care of you. I want to have kids with you. I want to massage your feet after a hard day. I want to hug you when you’re sad. I want to hold your hand when you’re sick. I want to hold you in my arms and never let go—even waking up in the morning with our bodies intertwined, won’t be enough for me. Breathing your air destroys me because I can taste you in everything—even when your lips aren’t anywhere near mine—damn, I can taste them, I taste you. I want you so deeply etched in my soul that I don’t know where I end and you begin. So, Kiersten, I’m going to pull the whole “I was dying and this is my dying wish card”—because every day I’m not with you. Every day that goes by when I don’t get to share every single moment with you…is like waiting to die all over again. So, will you marry me? Not in another eight months—will you marry me….now?”
“How…” Kiersten’s hoarse voice shook. “How in the world do you expect me to answer that?”
My chest ached deep inside like I’d held my breath for too long and my lungs were about to explode. Was she rejecting my proposal?
“I would have married you the second you asked, Wes. Had the doctors said they could only keep you alive for five minutes, I would have spent those five minutes in your arms—loving you. Time is precious—and I want to give you all of mine. So marrying you today? Even if I was in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt. Even if I was running a fever or got hit by a car…I’d do it. I love you. My heart’s been yours since the minute you needed it to beat for you.
Rachel Van Dyken