the secret history, donna tartt
Camilla Macaulay
« She was still a girl, a slight lovely girl who lay in bed and ate chocolates, a girl whose hair smelt like hyacinth and whose scarves fluttered jauntily in the breeze. But strange and marvellous as she was, a wisp of silk in a forest of black wool, she was not the fragile creature one would have her seem. »
1 more day of January left to survive
irrevocably obsessed with ravens...vampsβ¦tree peeps etc
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