This could have been a love story. It could have been, but he screwed that all up. You see, he thinks it’s a game. He thinks I’m his pawn, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Every move he makes, I’ll block him. Every time he thinks he’s about to seize me, I’ll run. Some men underestimate the power of the queen because they’re too busy playing king. They forget she’s the most powerful piece on the board. And love is not a game I’m apt at losing. What will it take for him to realize I’ll never be his pawn, but I’ll happily play his queen? Love is not a game, but the chase certainly is.
Raw. Gritty. Love.
Because sometimes characters need to be flawed.
P.S. Stevie's greatest fear is the impending zombie apocalypse. Think about it: swarming armies of decaying, oozing corpses stumbling around with clicking teeth, trying to eat your face. Nothing about that is good. NOTHING!