As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached all the books on the shelves to pale, gilded versions of themselves and warmed the paper and ink inside the covers so that the smell of unread words hung in the air.

I'd learned a long time ago that one of the finest weapons in my arsenal was my ability to invade personal space

This is Rilke. I wish I had written it for you.

It's a hard thing to hold a civil conversation after recalling that one party has used a Taser on the other, so both of them finished the walk in silence.

The sun shines through the window And the sun shines through your hair It seems like you're beside me But I know that you're not there. You would sit beside this window Run your fingers through my hair You were always there beside me But I know that you're not there Oh, to be by your side once again Oh, to hold your hand in mine again Oh, to be by your side once again Oh, to hold your hand in mine again-

She kissed me harder, breath huffing into my mouth, and bit my lip. Oh, hell that was amazing. I growled before I could stop myself.

When he kissed me, his lips soft and careful, it was all the thrill of our first kiss and all the practiced familiarity of the accumulated memory of all our kisses.