“It doesn't change that I still want him, I still want to be with him, I still feel like the fucking air has been sucked out of the room when he walks in and I still think about him all the time.”
“So... why did it end?"
Sin looked at Boyd sidelong before shrugging simply. "Because he wasn't you”
“So, I'm just going to tell you how it is for me,' Boyd continued frankly. His gaze was intense and sincere as he didn't look away from Sin's eyes. 'I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I think about you all the time. It's been hell trying to keep myself away - every time you're close I just want to touch you. I would do anything for you. And if I could have anything in the world right now, I would be in a relationship with you.”
“How would you like to be in the middle of a Vega sandwich?”
“Your feelings and thoughts are your own and fuck them if they think they can control them.”
“I wasn't afraid of you!' Ryan protested. 'I was half intimidated, half infatuated, and I didn't know how to act because of it.'
Sin made a face at Ryan and picked up his chips again. 'How could you be infatuated with me when you didn't even know me?'
Ryan scoffed and pointed his cheese-covered fork at Sin. 'You're gorgeous and tragic—gay boys like that kind of thing.”
“I don't belong anywhere. No matter where I am, people make sure I'm aware of that.”
“When someone tells you to walk away, walk away. When you don't know what someone's capable of, don't push them.”
“And you could try to stop pretending to be so fucking perfect. Maybe then people will stop expecting perfection all the time”
“Emilio's gaze flicked over Boyd's face and the side of Emilio's mouth twitched up slightly but then he just shrugged exaggeratedly and said slowly, "Or maybe... you just think I'm cute. Admit it, Boyd. Don't deny your true feelings anymore. It's meant to be-- you, me, my boy... How would you like to be in the middle of a Vega sandwich?”
“Sin stared at him before shaking his head and pulling out his gun. "And you say I'm the one with a blond obsession."
Emilio's expression morphed into a glare and he cocked his own weapon. "Shut the fuck up."
Sin hesitated for only a moment more before following Emilio out into the office. Sin couldn't help the small, self-satisfied smirk from ghosting across his features.
One point for Vega junior.”
“Sin silently cheered his father for being a dick right along with him and ignored the heated glares that they were both receiving.”
“My lack of care is phenomenal.”
“Emilio, shut the fuck up!" Carhart shouted at him, turning entirely to give his friend an incredulous look. "What's wrong with you?"
Emilio shrugged innocently, raising his eyebrows high. "I don't know how to take instructions slash am a bad person?”
“How long do you think you're gonna be able to ignore me?" Emilio asked casually, leaning across the table and arching an eyebrow at Sin.
"I'm not ignoring you," Sin replied flatly. "I'm willing you to go back under your rock.”
“Carhart didn't see how running a massive smuggling organization could be boring but then again he wasn't a sociopathic action junkie who didn't plan farther than the next few days.”
“Maybe I just find long-term relationships to be interesting because I've never been in one or seen one that works well without getting fucked up in the end. Sometimes it seems like people are incapable of normal relationships anymore”
“I've always been in others' shadows”
“There was a beat of silence before Sin said blandly, "I have occasional nightmares about us having a threesome with that meat-head. I'm far from being easily shocked."
"What?" Boyd looked completely taken aback, his eyebrows shooting up. "That's the last thing I thought I'd ever hear from you."
"It isn't exactly a voluntary thing. It's quite horrifying. I usually wake up before he can put his dick in me though." Sin made a revolted expression, his lips twisting in a scowl of disgust.
"So I shouldn't expect to be propositioned for this threesome too in the near future?" Boyd asked jokingly.
Sin stared at Boyd and didn't bother to reply.”
“Sorry, Sir. I was momentarily distracted by Senior Agent Vega... Senior.”
“Me and Zachary used to share women. I'm surprised he didn't tell you 'bout that."
Morgan's eyes snapped over to Carhart and her hands froze on the sweater that she'd grabbed from the sofa.
Carhart just rolled his eyes. "He's lying."
Emilio laughed and didn't deny it. "Oh, right. That was Douglas."
"What?" Morgan looked even more scandalized now. "Instructor Ferguson?”
“Instead, it struck him deeply just how much he loved Sin.
And even as he acknowledged that, he realized he felt the emotion on a deeper, less
chaotic level than he had before. He had known he loved Sin for over a year but it had
never felt like such a simple statement of fact for his life before; it had never seemed so
undeniable and yet at the same time without any negativity.
Whereas there had been times before when the love he'd felt for Sin had seemed
almost desperate or painful, now as he hunched over Sin with his fingers grasping Sin's
slack hand, Boyd felt at peace with the knowledge. It was as if a weight were lifted from
his shoulders and he understood that he could be no other way.”
“حينما تكون شاباً، فإن الجسد الخارجي هو ما يهم، كيف تبدو خارجياً، وحينما تكبر يتركز الاهتمام على ما هو بالداخل، ويتوقف الناس عن الاهتمام بالكيفية التي تبدو عليها.”
“Entonces, un día comencé a escribir, sin saber que me había encadenado de por vida a un noble pero implacable amo. Cuando Dios le entrega a uno un don, también le da un látigo; y el látigo es únicamente para autoflagelarse. [...] La diferencia entre escribir bien y el arte verdadero es sutil, pero brutal. (Capote, pág. 9)
»[...] En un cuento de Henry James, creo que “The Middle Years”, su personaje, un escritor en las sombras de la madurez, se lamenta: “Vivimos en la oscuridad, hacemos lo que podemos, el resto es la demencia del arte”. O palabras parecidas. En cualquier caso, míster James lo expone en toda la línea; nos está diciendo la verdad. Y la parte más negra de las sombras, la zona más demencial de la locura, es el riguroso juego que conlleva. (Capote, pp. 12-13)
»Los escritores, cuando menos aquellos que corren auténticos riesgos, que están ansiosos por morder la bala y pasar la plancha de los piratas, tienen mucho en común con otra casta de hombres solitarios: los individuos que se ganan la vida jugando al billar y dando cartas. (Capote, pág. 13)
»[...] Para empezar, creo que la mayoría de los escritores, incluso los mejores, son recargados. Yo prefiero escribir de menos. Sencilla, claramente, como arroyo del campo. (Capote, pág. 15).
»[...] Entretanto, aquí estoy en mi oscura demencia, absolutamente solo con mi baraja de naipes y, desde luego, con el látigo que Dios me dio (Capote, pág. 17)”
“There is nothing of God or Light in that heartless sound - it is all black winter and dark ice.”
“He said, You know, whoever hurt you
dies every time they look in the mirror.
That is how they pay."
She crossed her arms.
"And one day, Maria, you will die too,
but there's no reason for you to die
every day.”
“Lying flat, the small mound of their child nearly disappeared,with only a palm-sized hardness palpable below her navel. Darcy murmured nonsense over this evidence of their love, tickling Lizzy's skin so that she giggled and squirmed.
"What are you saying to him, love?"
"I am informing him that he has been gifted to the very best mother in the entire world. Also, I am reintroducing myself and thanking him for finally allowing me to feel him. If need be, I shall squeeze him several times a day. He can kick me whenever the whim takes him!" He glanced up into her mirth-filled face.”
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