I'm going to arrange you, if that's okay?" I swallowed. "Uh... sure." My hands were clutched to my ribcage, my shoulders hunched almost to my ears. What, this isn't how you want me positioned?

I suppose love is never a sure thing, no matter what words are spoken. Love requires a leap of faith into the abyss, every time.

Really, he could have just punched me in the stomach, because my brain refused to comprehend the words he was saying. A physical assault, it might have understood.

The way he kissed me felt like a brand. Like he was tattooing himself under my skin.

Alcohol removes inhibitions. It doesn't trigger criminal violence where there was none before.

People rarely said what they thought, or revealed how they felt. No one was honest.

He laughed, and the sound reduced the pain of every sore place on my body to the dullest ache.