Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

me. “You had bruises on your arms for at least a month after
that. I always wondered where they came from.”
My heart is beating too fast. Dangerously fast. I clench my
fingers to keep them from shaking. I lock my jaw in place
and wipe my face clean of emotion but I can’t slow the
thrumming in my chest no matter how hard I try.
“A million times,” he says, his voice so quiet now. “I saw
you do things like that a million times. But you never said a
word unless it was forced out of you.” He laughs again, this
time a hard, heavy sort of laugh. He’s staring at a point
directly past my shoulder. “You never asked for anything
from anyone.” He finally meets my eyes. “But no one ever
gave you a chance.”
I swallow hard, try to look away but he catches my face.
He whispers, “You have no idea how much I’ve thought
about you. How many times I’ve dreamt”—he takes a tight
breath—“how many times I’ve dreamt about being this close
to you.” He moves to run a hand through his hair before he
changes his mind. Looks down. Looks up. “God, Juliette, I’d
follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this
world.”
I’m begging myself not to burst into tears and I don’t know
if it’s working. I’m everything broken and glued back
together and blushing everywhere and I can hardly find the
strength to meet his gaze.
His fingers find my chin. Tip me up.
“We have three weeks at the most,” he says. “I don’t think
they can control the mobs for much longer.”
I nod. I blink. I rest my face against his chest and pretend
I’m not crying.
3 weeks.