Murmuration

[3.9] even though i caught on to the general gist pretty early on—TJ Klune wasn't aiming for subtlety with his copious dropping of hints as to where the story was heading—the prevailing air of disquiet that bled out of every page had me on pins and needles regardless.

while classified as a romance, this book isn't one in the typical sense, and i would even go so far to say that your usual overt displays take a backseat to the overarching suspenseful unease, but there's something indescribably resonating in the extreme lengths people are willing to go to for love.

same as Olive Juice, the author refrains from injecting his classic humor into the mix to ease the sting of truths as they're slowly uncovered.

did i cry? no.

did it leave me lying on my back, staring at the ceiling with a sinking feeling in my stomach, this somber, laden hollowness? yes. yes, it did.

it is such a challenge to put into words what emotions i was experiencing at the very end, but a comparison to a certain Netflix show might just do the trick. as some might consider it spoilery, i'll hide it behind a spoiler tag just in case, but the way i'd feel at the end of an episode of Black Mirror essentially captures my headspace to a T