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“In the company of women like this— sharp-edged as raw diamonds but with soft hands and hearts, not strong in spite of anything but powerful because of everything— I feel invincible. Every chink and rut and battering wind has made us tough and brave and impossible to strike down. We are mountains— or perhaps temples, with foundations that could outlast time itself.”

“I look down at his hand and laugh without quite knowing why. “You deserve some sort of reward for putting up with me.” “You’re my reward.” “Shit reward I am.” “Why do you think everyone needs some sort of recompense for being around you?” he says, his voice so gentle I almost start to cry. ... He wraps an arm around me and I can feel the light touch of his hand on the back of my neck, fingers stroking my hair. "You don't owe me sex, you don't owe me anything. I'm with you because I want to be, and if we're together it'll be because we both want to be. And we're going to London together because we want to, and it's going to be a disaster, but that's alright because we'll have each other, and there's no one on this goddamn planet I'd rather be with than you.”

“...you're not the first I've interrupted by mistake. You've not shocked me, and you've not surprised me either." I look up at him too quickly, and my vision swims. He puts a steadying hand on my shoulder. "If you thought I was ignorant as to the nature of your relationship with Mr. Newton, you may need to reexamine your concept of appropriate of physical fondness between friends." I nod, trying to pretend its fine when really my muscles are clenched, and I'm fighting the urge to run. I don't want to have this conversation. I don't know where it's going, but my instincts tell me to scoot away from it. I can feel my shoulders rise, and perhaps he notices for he lets his his hands fall away, and instead, folds them in his lap. Perhaps its only in my own mind, but it feels like a deliberate gesture, as though he's putting his hands away to show he won't raise them against me. "We aren't that obvious," I say, and when Scipio gives me a pointed look I add," I know plenty of lads who are fond without being unchaste. "But its clear you're not those lads." I'm not sure he hears the way my breath hitches for he quickly adds, "which is fine. Who gives a fig for chastity anyways." He laughs at his own joke, glancing over at me like he hoping I might join in. I wonder suddenly if this is what it's meant to be like with a father and a son and a first real love.”

“...We could have given you two some time to yourselves." I laugh one, short, humorless burst. "What could I have said, could you vacate the apartments for a while so Percy and I can engage in illicit activities?" "Not illegal." "They are where I come from." I shake my head staring down at my feet. "I couldn't have. I've been struck too many times." "Then maybe I should have said it to you sooner. You needn't hide around us," he says. "I'm sorry you ever felt you had to, and that the world make you feel as though you had to.”

“His face goes shy, eyes flitting down, then back up to mine. "Yes, Monty," he says, and he smiles on my name. "I love you. And I want to be with you." "And you, Percy," I return, touching my nose to his, "are the great love of my life. Whatever happens from here, I hope that's the one thing that never changes." My hands are upon his face, mirror to the spot where I'll carry red, puckered scars for the rest of my life. In his gaze, they seem to matter less. We are not broken things, neither of us. We are cracked pottery mended with lacquer and flakes of gold, whole as we are, complete unto each other. Complete and worthy and so very loved. "May I kiss you?" I ask. "Abso-bloody-lutely you may," he says. And so I do.”

“Every time you rolled your eyes and every little smart remark you made about how silly it was for girls to care about their looks. You refused to let me--or anyone!--like books and silks. Outdoors and cosmetics. You stopped taking me seriously when I stopped being the kind of woman you thought I had to be to be considered intelligent and strong. All those things you say make men take women less seriously--I don't think it's men; it's you. You're not better than any other woman because you like philosophy better than parties and don't give a fig about the company of gentlemen, or because you wear boots instead of heels and don't set your hair in curls.”

“Let's get one thing straight," I interrupt, jerking my arm out of his grip with such force that I nearly knock out the woman standing behind me. "You are not my father, I am not your responsibility, and I did not come here to have a list of my faults related from him or be condemned for who I associate with-not by you or that damned duke. So while it's been a jolly good time, being treated like a child all evening, I think I've just about had enough and I can make my own way from here.”

“The truth is that Percy has always been important to me, long before I fell so hard for him there was an audible crash. It's only lately that his knee bumping mine under a narrow pub table leaves me fumbling for words. A small shift in the gravity between us and suddenly all my stars are out of alignment, planets knocked from their orbits, and I'm left stumbling, without map or heading, through the bewildering territory of being in love with your best friend.”

“Percy rests his chin on top of my head, his hands on my shoulders as we too turn our faces to the shore. 'Did you know—' he says. 'Oh, are we playing the did you know game?' 'Did you know this year is not going to be a disaster?' 'I don’t believe it.' 'It is not going to be a disaster,' he repeats overtop of me, 'because it is you and I and the Continent and not even Lockwood or your father can wreck it completely. I promise.' He nudges the side of my head with his nose until I consent to look up at him, then does that tipped-head smile again, and I swear to God it's so adorable I forget my own damn name. 'France on the horizon, Captain,' I say. 'Steel thyself, mate,' he replies.”

“...Here, let me see. Stop rubbing it so I can -" He wicks his hand away from his eye just as I lean, and his elbow collides with the side of my face, hard enough that I'm knocked sideways. I try to grab the bedpost, but my hands are so slippery that Islide right off, and crash to the floor, my head connecting painfully with the corner of the drawer I left open. The bottle of oil falls off the edge and shatters into a soupy, amber pool. "What happened! Are you alright?" Percy's got one eye open but blinking frantically, hand extended blindly to me. "I'm fine!" I touch the back of my head, and it comes back damp and red. "No, wait, I'm bleeding." "You're bleeding!?" He yelps. "It's fine! " "It's clearly not if you're bleeding." I can feel a trickle down the back of my neck, and I clap a hand against it, like I can force the blood to stay inside me if I just press tightly enough. "It's fine!" My wrist is wet, and I look just as a drizzle of blood courses down my arm into the crook of my elbow. "God, this is really bleeding!" My vision swims, and when I reach to steady myself I put my hand straight into the oily puddle of lineament, and I crash backward onto the floor. Percy tries to come to my aid, but with one eye closed, he misjudges were he places his foot and steps on me. I screech and he slips and he slips, one leg tangled up in the sheets, and then suddenly the bedroom door bangs opens and there's Scipio. I scream and Percy screams and Scipio lets loud a horrified gurgle, and then Felicity appears behind him in the doorway, claps her hands over her eyes, tries to run with her hands still covered, and slips in one of the dripping puddles we left on the stairs. Her feet go out from under her, and she lands flat on her back at the top of the stairs, hands still valiantly clapped over her eyes, which rather ruins it all.”

“I am reminded of how exquisitely easy friendship with Percy is, equal parts comfortable silence and never lacking things to say to each other. Or rather it was easy, until I ruined it by losing my bleeding mind every time he does that thing where he tips his head to the side when he smiles.”