"He didn’t bother to threaten me, yet. I hated him for it. I should be worth threatening."

But is it not a sort of genius to cut always to the heart?

Something burned hot in me now, an impatience, a certainty.

His eyes were unreadable.

Soon our conversations spilled out of the night’s confinement. I surprised myself with how much there was to say, about everything.

And as we swam, or played, or talked, a feeling would come. It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright where they were dull.

For who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty?

He was good at this sort of affection, general and unbinding.

The caves under the sea.” Where the sea-nymphs lived, so deep the sun did not penetrate.

The inhuman deftness of his fingers.

Her eyes were not like a human’s; they were black to their center and flecked with gold. I could not bring myself to meet them.

A tightness I had not known was there eased a little. I would not lose him yet.