Shimmerskin

Relationships are like landmines. Once you step away from them, you’re still left with shrapnel.

In Gemima’s case, that shrapnel has legs, a voice and blue eyes.

Even in the Never – middle of nowhere, chased by relentless pursuers, wings of destiny sprouting from her back – she can’t escape his fuckin’ eyes.

Bassie was just as bad. But at least he seemed to want her. Freeloader, too – the unwelcome leech.

Not to mention the whole host of other handsy motherfuckers who demanded she keep her mouth shut, her eyes closed and her freedom to herself.

All of them – every single one – the wrong shape and shade of not-Blue.

In short, she was a wanted woman longing to be wanted. She wished she could go back to a world that made sense.

Instead, Gemima was pulling shrapnel and bleeding Blue in the snow. Dying to move on.