Prangon

“Soft flesh is eaten by hard teeth.”
― Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think the etiquette manuals cover this sort of situation.” He leaned in close, his lips all but grazing her neck, and inhaled. “Mmm. You smell good, too.”

She nearly choked. Took a step backwards, until her back met cold stone. “Th-thank you.”

“That’s better. May I kiss you?” His finger dipped into her shirt collar, stroking the tender nape of her neck.

“I d-don’t th-think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? We’re alone.” His hands were at her waist.

Her lungs felt tight and much too small. “Wh-what if somebody comes in?”

He considered for a moment. “Well, I suppose they’ll think I fancy grubby little boys.”
― Y.S. Lee, The Body at the Tower

“God, Packard! Do you know how hard I worked at
it?” I twist up the napkin and whip it at him.
He deflects it. “There we go; I knew you could do it.”
My mouth falls open. “Very funny.”
He just laughs.
“I can’t believe you!”
― Carolyn Crane, Mind Games

“Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?”
― R.L. LaFevers, Grave Mercy