The Poet X Quotes Novels & Stories

“But some nights, it feels like I’m drowning in the fear that I’m not enough.” Xander’s fingers grabbed mine, and he leaned in, his words just above a whisper. “I need you to know that you are more resilient than you’ll ever realize. Every pain, every scar, has only made you who you are—a fighter with a heart that dares to love and hope.”

I whispered. Xander turned to look at me completely, his eyes full of kindness and strong support. “Sweetheart, you are stronger than you think. You have faced a lot but you kept fighting, like some kind of superhero after each battle. It's pretty amazing. These new abilities? They're just a part of the strength that was already inside you.” His words made me feel better, but the worries were still there. “But what if-”

We both laughed at his words. Xavier hated eating too much, he barely ate his meals and always sipped red wine like it was his last. "I agree I eat as if I'll die tomorrow. Well who's ever seen when a kettle would look at a pot and call it black when it knows that it's black itself. Clean the dot in your eyes before you tend to clean your neighbor's own." I stuttered, hoping he wasn't getting angry at my words. "What are you trying to say indirectly? You're just biting around the bush, that's cowardice. Out with it already" Xavier retorted gulping down his cup of wine and refilling it for the third time since we sat together at this table.

"How do you do it? Carry the weight of everyone's survival and still make jokes?" "Who says I'm joking?" "Xavier." "Fine. Honestly? I don't know. Some days I wake up and think 'today's the day I'll break.' But then I see all of you still standing, still fighting, still choosing to be here. And I think... if you can carry your fear and still show up, I can carry mine." "That's not comforting." "It's honest." She laughed, tired and raw. "I hate how much you use that word now."

QUINN “Don’t do that,” I said quietly. My voice didn’t shake, but something inside me did. Because what he just said sounded unbelievable. “Don’t do what?” he retorted. I inhaled. “What you just said sounds impossible.” A smile curved on his lips. “Nothing I said is impossible.” He didn’t argue but spoke calmly like a fact. I let the words sink in for a while before responding. “That is your assumption,” I said, “do you just throw words around because of a photo given to me by Xavier? Or are you just building conclusions out of fragments?’

For a moment, we stood there, facing each other in the low glow of lamplight, the weight of everything we had survived hanging between us. King. Consort. Mate. Equal. The words still felt unreal on my tongue. “You don’t have to be strong tonight,” Xander said quietly, as if reading the way my shoulders remained too tense. “Not for me or ever.” Something in my chest cracked at that, not painfully, but like ice giving way to water. “I don’t know how to stop,” I admitted. “Every time things are quiet, I keep waiting for someone to come take it all away.” He crossed the space between us and rested his forehead against mine. His breath was warm.

White hair fell down between his shoulders. I swallowed hard. The words slipped out before I could stop them. “What the fuck.” Xander glanced over his shoulder. One eyebrow lifted. “You want a fuck?” he asked, blunt. My face went hot. “No! No, I don’t...” I waved my hands again. “Then what?” He turned fully around, his hands coming down to the waistband of his boxers. “I mean, this place,” I said, gesturing wildly to the vaulted ceilings and the massive carved pillars surrounding the water. “This place is fucking beautiful.”

In here, it was just the drip… drip… and the sound of our breathing. “Still cold?” he asked, voice low. “A little.” I burrowed under his coat. “Mostly embarrassed.” “For what?” “For shaking like a leaf.” His chin dipped, and I felt his breath stir the hair near my ear. “Leaves survive storms because they bend,” he said. “Not because they’re unafraid.” I smiled into his shirt. “When did you become a poet?” “When I started needing words that keep you warm.” That shouldn’t have made my heart jump the way it did. It did anyway.

"But imagine how you would have felt if you had stayed back and watched that place burn. I get it. You have fond memories there but I am sure you would want to go back to relive it when you have healed. Just imagine if they no longer existed. The only thing that would have been left would have bebe just a pigment of your imagination." "You saved them, Xavier," I said softly. "Your father would be so proud of you wherever he is. He would be so proud of you because you conquered your fear of returning to a place where you shared only happy memories with him to save those people. He would be super proud of you," Xavier 1rr lowered his head. "It's you." "Me?"

"I'm sorry, Shelly. I won't waste another decade of your life." The edge of his shirt fluttered through my fingers as he fell. Screams sounded from below. In the end, Xavier still jumped off the building. The day he was buried, the sunlight was harsh and glaring. I suddenly remembered something I'd heard from someone. "Only when you replace rotten soil can fresh flowers bloom again."