Ironic, really. That I knew this would never last forever. Could never last forever.
Ironic because I, I'm the one who will.
Ironic, also, that I never even thought we'd get this much.
Seven years, Snow. Seven years I spent, cursing your stupid, beautiful existence. Seven years spent wanting you to hate me, so I could pretend I hated you too. Seven years, staring at you when you weren't looking and sneering when you were. I saw what you were from the first day. What you could be. What you could be to me.
And I tried to see me, what I could be to you. And the answer was always less. Less than you, less than you deserve. Less full stop. I'm not even alive, but Crowley, Snow, you made me feel like I'd been born in fire. I dreamed, I hoped, and when it all got too much, that's when I used to try to kill you. Because if I hadn't done, I'm scared I'd have made you live forever.
But even then, you knew me better than I knew myself. You knew I wouldn't bite you. I hope you knew I wouldn't really kill you either. I even stopped trying after third year, and I like to think you noticed.
You definitely didn't notice me back then. Or you wouldn't admit you did. Bunce says she figured you out in fourth year, but I'm not sure. I can't pinpoint when I saw you look at me differently. I never thought you would. When you did, that day, that day in the forest -
You were more, Snow. More than I'd hoped for. More than I deserved. You filled me up, and I didn't even need to feed after that. Not for three days. You kept me sane, in a way.
I loved you so much, I forgot what hating myself felt like.
Loved. That's wrong. It's love. No past tense, I still love you. I'll always love you. I was allowed to love you, openly, for just seven days. But before that, it was seven years, Snow, seven years.
All my life I thought I was doomed, and then you lifted me. You made me see. You gave me part of yourself those times you touched me, those times you pushed your magic into me. Through your hands, and through your lips. Rosebud lips.
Snow. I'm flammable, but you, you brought me the light.
You showed me the world, and I want to look at it before it gets dark again. I want to look at it enough for both of us.
I'm glad it was me, at the end. Me that you chose.
It's all been so beastly, so lovely, that I would wish it on nobody but myself.