“Jesper shrugged again. He adjusted the buttons on his shirt, touched his thumbs to his revolvers. When he felt like this, mad and scattered, it was as if his hands had a life of their own. His whole body itched. He needed to get out of this room.
Wylan laid his hand on Jesper’s shoulder. “Stop.”
Jesper didn’t know if he wanted to jerk away or pull him closer.
“Just stop,” Wylan said. “Breathe.” Wylan’s gaze was steady.
Jesper couldn’t look away from that clear-water blue. He forced himself to still, inhaled, exhaled.
“Again,” Wylan said, and when Jesper opened his mouth to take another breath, Wylan leaned forward and kissed him. Jesper’s mind emptied. He wasn’t thinking of what had happened before or what might happen next. There was only the reality of Wylan’s mouth, the press of his lips, then the fine bones of his neck, the silky feel of his curls as Jesper cupped his nape and drew him nearer.
This was the kiss he’d been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was prairie fire. It was the spin of Makker’s Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart—or was it Wylan’s?—like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh.
Slowly, inevitably, they broke apart. “Wylan,” Jesper said, looking into the wide blue sky of his eyes, “I really hope we don’t die.”
― Crooked Kingdom
Wylan laid his hand on Jesper’s shoulder. “Stop.”
Jesper didn’t know if he wanted to jerk away or pull him closer.
“Just stop,” Wylan said. “Breathe.” Wylan’s gaze was steady.
Jesper couldn’t look away from that clear-water blue. He forced himself to still, inhaled, exhaled.
“Again,” Wylan said, and when Jesper opened his mouth to take another breath, Wylan leaned forward and kissed him. Jesper’s mind emptied. He wasn’t thinking of what had happened before or what might happen next. There was only the reality of Wylan’s mouth, the press of his lips, then the fine bones of his neck, the silky feel of his curls as Jesper cupped his nape and drew him nearer.
This was the kiss he’d been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was prairie fire. It was the spin of Makker’s Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart—or was it Wylan’s?—like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh.
Slowly, inevitably, they broke apart. “Wylan,” Jesper said, looking into the wide blue sky of his eyes, “I really hope we don’t die.”
― Crooked Kingdom
“Mum patted him reassuringly. “Oh, Oliver … I am sure you are one of the best gays.”
I glanced back to find Oliver looking faintly flustered. “Mum, stop ranking homosexuals. It doesn’t work like that.”
― Boyfriend Material
I glanced back to find Oliver looking faintly flustered. “Mum, stop ranking homosexuals. It doesn’t work like that.”
― Boyfriend Material
“What do you like?"
"Music. Numbers. Equations. They're not like words. They ... they don't get mixed up."
"If only you could talk to girls in equations."
There was a long silence, and then, eyes trained on the notch they'd created in the link, Wylan said, "Just girls?"
Jesper restrained a grin. "No. Not just girls."
It really was a shame they were all probably going to die tonight.”
― Six of Crows
"Music. Numbers. Equations. They're not like words. They ... they don't get mixed up."
"If only you could talk to girls in equations."
There was a long silence, and then, eyes trained on the notch they'd created in the link, Wylan said, "Just girls?"
Jesper restrained a grin. "No. Not just girls."
It really was a shame they were all probably going to die tonight.”
― Six of Crows
“I’m a very valuable investment.”
“Tell me he didn’t say that.”
“Of course he did. Well, not the valuable part.”
“Idiot.”
“How’s Matthias?”
“Also an idiot.”
― Six of Crows
“Tell me he didn’t say that.”
“Of course he did. Well, not the valuable part.”
“Idiot.”
“How’s Matthias?”
“Also an idiot.”
― Six of Crows
“Footsteps thudded down the stairs, and the flickering figure of Hendry Lowe appeared outside Alistair’s prison bars.
“You’re too late,” Alistair told him. “I’ve long descended into madness.”
“It’s been fourteen hours.”
― All of Our Demise
“You’re too late,” Alistair told him. “I’ve long descended into madness.”
“It’s been fourteen hours.”
― All of Our Demise
Leila’s 2025 Year in Books
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