#zane

Instead of slapping her head, I do what they tell you to do: count to ten. Only I do it the gifted way: 123+456+789+10. When your sister has hurtled you swerving into the darkness, stranded you at a funeral home, and threatens to get you in trouble, just stop and count to 1,378 before you respond. ↗

— Jo Ann Beard

#sister #zanesville #home

I love you," Ty said out of the blue, his voice almost sing-song. Zane laughed. "You're drunk." "I loved you before I was drunk. ↗

— Abigail Roux

#zane-garrett #love

Ty laughed, a carefree, boyish sound, and glanced to his side, distracted by what he saw. “You moved the rug.” “I kitty-cornered it.” “Why would you do that?” Ty asked, aghast. “To see you lose your shit when you got home.” Zane leaned closer, grinning evilly. “There are other things out of order too. Books not alphabetized. Coffee mug handles facing different directions.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as Ty’s eyes widened in horror. “The closet isn’t color coded.” “You’re just watching the world burn, huh?” Zane laughed. “God I missed you.” Ty said in a rush of breath. ↗

— Abigail Roux

#ty-and-zane #zane #coffee

You took a quarter century off my age with that kidnapping stunt. No more going off with a strange men, hear me? -"You're a strange man." I'm your strange man. ↗

— Cherry Adair

#age