Reading Addict

“But Darling wouldn't even let him cling to those small brutalities. He touched Aumont gently and held him quietly, replaced those memories with something much kinder. Aumont reached up and caught his wrist. Guided Daeling's hand down so that he could kiss his palm. It was all he could think to offer, an echo of what Darling had given him earlier. He left his lips pressed to the warm, callused skin for several long seconds. And then he held onto Darling's hand, keeping it close to his chest as a babe might hold onto some necessary comfort -a blanket or a rag doll- and. eventually, fell asleep.”
― J.A. Rock, An Affair for Aumont

“We cannot go to your home. It's not even good enough for rats."

Aumont snorted out a laugh. "Oh, that is untrue, sir! The rats are quite at home there! They are my dearest friends. I was going to knit them little scarves for the winter."

Darling couldn't hold back his own laugh. "You never were!"

"I swear it. I was." Aumont's smile was a rare and wonderful thing, and Darling had so rarely seen it without a sharp tinge of bitterness in the curl of his mouth. "I was going to sit there hunched over like a tricoteuse at the foot of the guillotine, needles clacking together as I made all my little rat scarves."

Darling didn't know whether to laugh again, or to kiss him.

Aumont snapped his twig in half, and mimed knitting. "You're just jealous that I did not offer to knit you one."

"I'm not a rat, sir, and I am not jealous!”
― J.A. Rock, An Affair for Aumont

“It would be easy to love Aumont -Darling was moer than halfway there already- bit it had been easy to love Lord Christmas too. As easy as grasping the blade of a knife with your bare hands as someone stabbed you with it, and then thanking him for it.”
― J.A. Rock, An Affair for Aumont

“I have told you, George Darling, over and over. I am not going to die until I have gone on one knee before you and asked you to marry me."

"You could ask now," Darling murmured, as footsteps drew nearer.

"It was the kneeling I was looking forward to. But very well." Aumont leaned over so that Darling had an all too intimate view of his bloodstained coat, and whispered in his ear: "George Darling. Would you do me the honour of marrying me?"

"Of course," Darling whispered back, hoping his answer was not lost beneath the book of Lord Hartwell's voice.”
― J.A. Rock, An Affair for Aumont