#p. 37

[everyillumi]

[returntomytilene]

I have raised the love of noble harmonies and of feminine beauty to a faith. Any belief which inspires ecstasy and sacrifice is a real religion.

Renée Vivien, A Woman Appeared to Me, 1904, translated by Jeannette H. Foster

[everyillumi]

[everyillumi]

[everyillumi]

[everyillumi]

[firstreadbooks]

“How about I call you when I finish this?” “But you don’t even have my phone number,” he said. “I strongly suspect you wrote it in the book.” He broke out into that goofy smile. “And you say we don’t know each other.”

Chapter 2, p.37 (TFiOS)

But that’s the thing! You don’t know each other! The last time you were in his car, you were scared he was going to take advantage of you! He calls you a name you don’t consent to, doesn’t even consider or consult you in conversations about your own personal safety, demands weird information off you, touches you without asking, and somehow you’re okay with this?! WHY?!

Thus ends Chapter 2, and I hate everything.

[firstreadbooks]

“Right, that’s why I said tomorrow,” he said. “I want to see you again tonight. But I’m willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow.”

Chapter 2, p.37 (TFiOS)

WHY DOES THIS COME OFF AS BEING SO FRICKING CREEPY. I NEED TO SCRUB THE FILTH FROM MY EYEBALLS.