Navigating this new world made Sunny feel like Dorothy stepping out from her black-and-white house into a world of color so bright it didn't seem real. Everything in this world seems like a dream.
Megan HartSo many of the blemished didn’t know what to do with silence. Sunny’d learned that well enough at the coffee shop, where people insisted on talking, talking. To be “social,” they said, but she thought it was because they didn’t really know what to do with themselves if they had to listen to what was in their heads instead of what came out from their mouths.
Megan HartPeace, hands and mouth smeared with chocolate pudding, blinks and says nothing. Happy frowns. Bliss, firmly ensconced on Liesel’s hip, babbles something so cute and precious it would be nice to take a second to appreciate it, but Liesel is caught between her genuine and somewhat frightening fury and her shame at realizing that she’s turned into everything she swore she’d never be.
Megan HartSleeping.” The word came out with an adorable lack of anything resembling an L, closer to something you’d do with a broom than in a bed.
Megan HartSunny could think of lots of reasons about why the angel was crying, but the one that felt the best to her was that the angel wept so Sunny didn’t have to.
Megan Hart...tenía los Seis Síntomas Mortales de un Hombre Enamorado:
1. Incapacidad para pensar derecho.
2. Una alarmante propensión a sonreír en los momentos más extraños.
3. Pensamiento constante en el objeto de su deseo.
4. Absolutamente ningún interés en otros miembros del sexo opuesto.
5. Una sorprendente buena voluntad hacia el mundo en general.
6. Excitación sexual perpetúa.
What are you wearing?”
I looked down at my soft flannel pajamas. I’d washed them so many times the plaid pattern had faded mostly to grays and whites. “What do you want me to be wearing?”
Dan’s voice shifted a little. I imagined a smile. “Nothing.”
Such a small thing, that little bit of flirting, but all at once I felt as if air had rushed into my lungs, and I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. “Nothing but a smile.
Abandoning a task that is futile and pointless is not giving up.
Megan HartAll men have the stars, but they are not the same things for different people.
Megan HartNo, Dan.”
“And you want me to go.”
I looked into his eyes. “No. I don’t.”
He moved closer, encouraged, and put his hand on my shoulder. “Then what do you want, Elle?”
“I want you not to have to settle,” I told him.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I know that’s what you’ll be doing. Because if you want more from me, you’re not going to get it.”
He said nothing for a long time. “When I readThe Little Prince, I thought you must be the rose. You with your four thorns, convincing me you’re able to defend yourself. But now I know you hate roses. So you must be the fox instead.
So maybe what you really want is for me to tame you.”
From a lot of men, that speech would have made me laugh, or roll my eyes. Then again, a lot of men wouldn’t have
read Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic story ofThe Little Prince, or bothered to try and understand it.
I reached for his hand and held it between both of mine. “The fox tells the Little Prince he is a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. Just like the flower was like a hundred thousand other flowers.”
Dan tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with the hand I wasn’t holding. “But the fox asked the prince to tame him.
To make it so they’d need each other and be unique to each other. And he did it.”
“And then the prince went away, Dan, and left the fox bereft.” I looked down at my hands, holding his.
“Would you be sad if I left you?” He asked me, and at first I wasn’t sure how I would reply.
At last the answer came on breath as tremulous as a breeze wafting curtains from an open window.
“Yes. I would.”
He squeezed my hand. “Then I won’t.
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