L. H. Cosway

Dylan O’Dea, my childhood sweetheart, had once meant everything to me. Now we were strangers, and honestly, after eleven years I never thought I’d see him again. I lived in the world of the average, of getting paid by the hour and budgeting to make ends meet. But Dylan, he lived in the world of wealth and success. He’d achieved the great things I always suspected he would.

How the Light Gets in

Lover of Romance 

“That’s just because nobody can tell where I’m from. I’m ninety-nine per cent convinced all Americans think Irish people talk like Leprechauns.”

After I lost Sam I could never see the sun, even when it was beaming in the sky. Now my goal was to leave the darkness behind. It’s what he would’ve wanted.

I can only see my dreams clearly when I look through you first.

I knew that each scent would remind me of him. Dylan was the sort of person who put his entire self into every endeavour. I’d smell the top notes and see his smile, the middle notes and remember his voice. But most of all, hidden like a secret in the bottom notes, I’d feel his touch. And afterward, I’d look at my life and know there was something missing. Something vital. Like a heart that didn’t beat, or an instrument that made no sound. I’d much rather live in blissful ignorance than sink into that bottomless hole. But standing here, with those bottles laid out in front of me, the temptation was hard to resist. Maybe the drug called Memory would be worth the comedown named Emptiness.

No love, how can you be with that dark cloud hanging over your head? When I’m gone you’ll have no other choice but to find the sun.”

“It’s always only been you. It only ever will be.”

He made me weak. He made me want. Every part of me fizzled with the need to feel his touch, to touch him in return. It was so much I could hardly stand it any longer.

“Each perfume I’ve create was inspired by you, Ev. Synaesthesia is you in the morning, when you’ve just woken up. Wildflower is you when you dance. E.V is you when you smile. Limerence is how I love you. And Hiraeth is how I’ve felt for eleven years without you in my life.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. But Dylan was wrong. Each perfume wasn’t me. Each perfume was us. Together, they told our story.

For Evelyn, my one true love, my muse. Yours always, Dylan.

How the Light Gets in quotes

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