Nemesis

“Lift your head to me...’
His is the kiss of a timorous lover. Feel his inhuman lips on the throat, the heat of it. The bite, when it comes, is cold. Begin to sink as the blood flows into his mouth; it is almost soothing. No pain. No pain at all. His teeth grind into the muscles; ecstasy and torment. Life, the very being, is flowing out. Unholy nourishment. Holy nourishment. Drained slowly.
The trauma of it feels like being torn, but it is no more than suddenly having the ability to experience reality in a different way. Waiting for the end... for what? Cannot foretell. No longer flesh, no longer blood. Soul. Free.”
― Storm Constantine, Burying the Shadow

“So what are you going to wear?”
I looked at her, wondering if she thought I had suddenly grown a vagina in the past five minutes. “Clothes.”
― Sean Kennedy, Tigers and Devils

“Sin looked over at Boyd through sleepy looking, heavy lidded eyes. "Cállate la boca, blanquito."

Hearing Sin speak Spanish didn't help any; he sounded especially sexy when he was drawling those words fluidly in his low, velvety voice. "What does that mean?" he asked, half with an edge and half just curious.

Full lips turned up into a small smirk and Sin raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the window. "It's a secret."

"Putain de beau gosse," Boyd muttered under his breath in mild annoyance, flipping forward several pages.”
― Santino Hassell, Evenfall: Volume 2: Director's Cut

“You were always saying you were gonna shoot him," he mutters, but it's kind of half-hearted. "Stupid fucking little tit, he needs a bullet in his head. What do you keep him round for, anyway?"
Because he makes me laugh. Because, fuck knows why, he adores me. Because he needs somebody to look after him and nobody else knows how. Because everything about us is wrong and I never ever want to be right. Because I wake up in the morning and see him sleeping next to me with his stupid dyed hair and his stupid painted nails and his stupid toy monkey and I remember I love him so much I don't know what to do, I love him I love him I LOVE HIM.”
― Richard Rider, Stockholm Syndrome