Scar

“My heart folds in on itself like origami. Confusion churns in my guts with a sudden wave of nausea. My voice echoes in my head in a melody tuned to the steady pace of Eli's strokes. What are you doing to me?”
― Brynne Weaver, Black Sheep

“That tightness winds around my throat once more. It slithers into my chest, pulling at my bones. The breath that passes my lips is unsteady, and a faint smile lifts the corners of Eli's mouth when no argument follows in. Just a breath. An admission in a simple thread of air, that maybe I want that too. The faint smile that was there on Eli's face dissolves, melted away by the heat in his eyes. It's not the same desire I've seen in him before. It's longing, not need. I can't decipher everything I see in his expression. There might be fear or hope. Or resignation or resolve. The emotions I see blur together like paint in turpentine.”
― Brynne Weaver, Black Sheep

“It could be one more weird anomaly in this upending cycle of what the fuck.”
― Martha Wells, Network Effect

“My heart feels like it's liquifying, dripping between my ribs. I'm too hot. Burning hot. This thing in my throat feels like a squeezing fist.”
― Brynne Weaver, Black Sheep