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Quote by Karl Kristian Flores

“I don’t want to spoil us with the color red," he thought. Sometimes, flirtation that led to nothing was everything. The coquetry remained harmless. If fortunately ceased, momentary sparks would not be damaged by a chair-throwing, divorce-filing, property- debating future. It was one of life’s little treats to meet someone amazing, have perfect chemistry, and walk away flattered and regretful, and best of all, forever remember a stranger who was so right and yet, by then, so far away. A perfect memory tastes sweeter than an exhausting series of normal ones. People could have each other without possession. Nothing needed to last forever when good memories lasted forever.”

Quote by Karl Kristian Flores

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A Happy Ghost

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Karl Kristian Flores

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“To Andrei, he could see all that was unpleasant about her face—her large nose and bony frame. But inside her, there was so much peace and contentment that somehow, she lit up everywhere. She was beautiful to him. It was the kind of attraction between people who were really people—and who could see the other person’s aura and makings. He saw what made her flesh move, and not her flesh. The intricate mechanics of her person, and not her shell. Andrei looked at O’Hare and saw something genderless—a kind of organism that was born and that over time has been affected and affects—that was ultimately kind and brave. It was the highest rank of physical desire one could experience. When the beautiful made standard love to each other, there always lay at least one angle of ugly—maybe in the dark, from the side, with a sound they made, or everything once one was finished. In what O’Hare and Andrei shared, beauty could take its time and no second could stop it. It was the type of wholesome love that made a couple stare for minutes at the other, not because they adored their lover’s eye color, but because in those minutes they were speaking to the person within the person, finding them, seeing them see, and playing together in that invisible planet created by two intuitive inventors.”

“He wanted to bite her nose and she wanted to grip his cheeks. They moved toward the person they liked and did all that was meant to be done. They kissed with unmistakable character. O’Hare had mastered English; mastery in any field defined one’s behavior. When one let something kill them enough, that essence shaped their core and the person became distinctive. It gave rhythm to their kisses. Motivated their periods of intensity and retreat. How they pulled each other’s hair. Andrei pressed his lips over her moles, island by island, star by star, and ate them like chocolate chips.”

“The gown is the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen,' I say to her, as I can pay her no other way without insult. It has been a long time since I have been given a gift, barbed though it may be. 'It does feel as though it might come from a dream.' That makes Habetrot's cheeks pink. 'Good. Maybe you will come back and tell me how the Prince of Sunlight liked the Queen of Night.' Embarrassed, I step out into the hall, wondering how she could believe that a dress- no matter how beautiful- could make me into an object of desire.”

“I let myself relax into the moment, into friendship. 'Now what about my hairpin?' He grins and hands it over. I smooth my thumb over the silver bird, then use it to pull back his hair, instead of mine. As my fingers skim over his neck, threading through the silk of his locks, he shudders from something I do not think is cold. I am suddenly too aware of the physicality of him, his long legs and the curve of his mouth, the hollow of his throat and the sharp point of his ears, where earrings once hung. Of the hairs hanging loose from my pin, falling across one light brown horn to rest on his cheekbone. When his eyes meet mine, desire, as keen as any blade, bends the air between us. The moment slows. I want to bite his lip. To feel the heat of his skin. To slide my hands beneath his armour and trace the map of his scars.”

“Cuando dos personas se casan jóvenes, Jeffers, todo nace de la raíz compartida de su juventud y es imposible decir qué parte es de uno y cuál de la otra persona. Por eso, cuando esas dos personas intentan separarse, el corte afecta desde la raíz hasta la punta de las ramas, y el proceso se convierte en una carnicería que parece dejar a la persona reducida a la mitad de lo que era antes. Pero cuando uno se casa más tarde, la relación es más parecida al encuentro de dos cosas distintas ya formadas, a una especie de choque de la una con la otra, parecido a dos masas de tierra que chocan y se fusionan la una con la otra a o largo del tiempo geológico, dejando la dramática costura de las cordilleras como prueba de su fusión.”

“Will you tell me how you came to be living...' He stops, as if trying to find the words. 'As you were.' I remember the care I'd given that he not know. How could I explain the way time seemed to slip from my fingers, the way I became incrementally more detached, more unable to reach out a hand to take something I wanted? I will not allow him to pity me any more than he does. 'You could have come to see me,' he says. 'If you need something.' I laugh at that. 'You?' He frowns down at me with his amber eyes. 'Why not?' The enormity of the reasons catches in my mouth. He's a prince of Elfhame, and I am the disgraced child of traitors. He befriends everyone, from the troll guard at the entrance to all those Tiernan mentioned back in the High Court, while I have spent years alone in the woods. But most of all, because he could have asked his sister to allow me to stay on the Shifting Isles and didn't. 'Perhaps I wanted to save that favour you still owe me,' I say. He laughs at that. Oak liking me is as silly as the sun liking a storm, but that doesn't stop my desire for it. Me, with my sharp teeth and chilly skin. It's absurd. It's grotesque. And yet, the way he looks at me, it almost seems possible.”