Beware the Heart Thief
We each had our own paths, so there was no point in dragging each other down.
Back then, I had no idea that on the other end of the ocean, Oliver flung his phone into a corner of the couch after getting dumped. He picked up a handgun and fired three consecutive shots into the bullseye.
Then, he smirked and spat, "Alright then. I guess playing nice doesn't work anymore."
…
Last winter, Oliver said Canverly was so cold it felt like frost crept into the bones.
I asked, "Is it colder than my place, Glaciara?"
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