“It was like my uterus was tapping out a happy dance on the rest of my organs. God, I was dying the longest, most tortuous, and arousing death in the history of the world.”

“The timbre of his voice went into that low register that made my insides curl in on themselves--it was like my uterus was tapping out a happy dance on the rest of my organs.”

“Then, slowly, like the sunrise peeking over the horizon, she smiled.She snapped the box closed.She didn’t scream. She didn’t run. She didn’t faint.There might have been a little crying.But mostly… she danced.”

“What's your name, love?"Love? LOVE! Still dying, here."Bliss.""Is that a line?"I blushed crimson. "No, it's my name.""Lovely name for a lovely girl.”

“What was he doing in there? Was he just getting dressed reeeaaally slowly? Was he looking through my things? Was he trashing my place because I’d run out and left him there like the biggest jerk this side of Kanye West at the 2009 VMA’s?”

“I danced. I danced without music. I screamed without sound. I celebrated in silence, in the dark, behind the curtains where no one could see.”

“An accent. HE HAS A BRITISH ACCENT. Dear God, I'm dying.”