Because we’re all perfect in our own way.
And I’m perfect too.
Not in the conventional sense, no. But for her.
At least, that’s what she tells me.
She tells me that I’m perfect for her and these days, that’s the only kind of perfection I care about.
Becoming her perfect.
Her Arrow.
The girl with thirteen freckles and witchy eyes.
The girl who changed my life and taught me things about myself.
The girl I’m in love with.
My Sweet Salem.
THE END
(For Arrow & Salem)
Callie
When: A couple of months ago; First sighting of Reed Jackson
Where: Ballad of the Bards
I don’t like whiskey.
At all.
It burns and it’s a masculine drink. Or at least, that’s what I’ve grown up believing because I’ve got four brothers – all older than me – and their choice of drink is whiskey.
Me? I like cosmos or pina coladas or mimosas. Drinks that are purple and pink and orange and taste sweet and wake up your tongue and sizzle between your teeth. Not that I’m legally allowed to drink yet but still.
Tonight though, I’m choosing to drink whiskey. And Jesus Christ, it’s awful.
Awful.
I hate it. But I hatehimmore. The guy because of whom I’m drinking this terrible creation.
Reed Jackson.
The liar. The guy who betrayed me and broke my heart.
He is here. Somehow. At my favorite bar.
I saw him standing in the middle of the crowded room, looking well and alive, not ten minutes ago. Looking like a dream.
What the fuck –fudge– is he doing here?
Okay, so I don’t curse. Well, at least I try not to. Because again, I’ve got four brothers who curse enough for the rest of the humanity. So I try to be a lady when I can.
But it’s okay. I’m drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, aren’t I? So I can curse like a sailor too.
