so much for lazy sunlit mornings ! tongue - tied and withholding words, she sits there swathed in gold and grinning. ( that is, he sees it in her eyes ; brother to brother to lawfully - wedded - wife, this kind of teasing tussle is far from unfamiliar ) THE DUST OF THE UNIVERSE FLOATS BETWEEN THEM, a silvery, shimmering veil caressed by light from a hundred million miles away or thereabouts [ … ] it seems that time here has stilled, this golden morning already cast eternal in is future memories. ‘ you know, some might call this blackmail. ’ BASTET WOULD AGREE, SURELY ——— as he shifts and sits, she stretches, bares teeth and claws in a savage sort of yawn, tail twitching, tenebrous, from side to side. on the whole, though ——— IT’S SOMETHING OF A SMALL SACRIFICE ; crossword on the coffee table, he heads for the kitchen, in search of something to trade in the pursuit of knowledge.
laziness has no place in her world : every moment spent in motion, every breath a chance to prove herself over again ( existence never stops being a competition. winning only pushes her further, takes her higher. her family, her work, these small pleasures of golden hours and coffee on the way, she can see herself running toward them for the rest of her days. ). the pad of her finger lifts and taps a dark leaf, the lone sign of life stemming from a potted episcia on the windowsill beside her. cleo, she named it. ❝ mm, i’d call it a partnership. ❞ behind jacob’s back, her lips twitch into a smile. there’s a virtue in wanting answers the way he does, the way ian does, too, facts stamped in solid black with no space for someone like ellie to question further ; but just as she’s made the space for herself her entire life, she dangles seven letters in front of him now and urges him to look closer. ❝ quid pro quo, whatever you want – can you bring me a cup of water, too? not too cold, please. ❞