The Huntress

Who asked you to love me?” Ian said lightly. “That’s not what I’m saying at all, you Red Menace.”

She rises out of the lake, streaked with blood, and drifts across the surface of the water toward me.

He found her lovely. He found her obscene. He found her. “Here you are,” he said aloud, and smiled.

Only now, who was the huntress and who was the prey?

What a terrible thing suspicion was, once you let it have full rein.

they were just lovers, work and play and passion and friendship blending together into something so very easy.

Are you decent?”
“Never.”

I’m done loving sweet-souled long-lashed idealists who dream of flight,

Building a generation is like building a wall—one good well-made brick at a time, one good well-made child at a time.

Grief cut, but it also made you remember.