“I've given up my living room, guest room, job, career, heterosexuality and my stance on no pets in the house, but I'm not giving up my room. I'm drawing a line.”

“He's painting your living room as a thank you.""Huh. My decorator might screech, but I'm okay with that.""Your decorator? Seriously? How did you not know you were gay?”

“Clean," Peter said."Can I get a water bottle or something to clean his hands?" I scanned the crowd. He drew my attention back to him with a pull of my hand. "No," Peter said. "I'm...clean."I had missed who Peter was until that very moment...I broke. It wasn't a visible fracture. I didn't sob or explode into anguish. I didn't give in to my vomitus urge that came from the burst of self-loathing. But I shattered nonetheless."Well, you look filthy," I said, hitting redial on his phone and jamming it to my ear.”

“We have to go," I replied, ready to throw everything I felt for Peter in the nearest trash and tie up the bag. Let it fester there with my already condemned sanity.”

“I looked at our hands, caked and coated in red, but entwined. The pristine moment when they were clasped like that earlier in the day seemed weeks ago."Clean." Peter said."Can I get a water bottle or something to clean his hands?" I scanned the crowd. He drew my attention back to him with a pull of my hand."No," Peter said. "I'm...clean."I had missed who Peter was until that very moment.I had called him names and treated him callously. I had read every micro expression in a vacuum of how it related to Austin Glass. And in return Peter had cared for my wounds, treated me tenderly and assured me that he was HIV negative while bleeding out in a hallway of strangers.I broke. It wasn't a visible fracture. I didn't sob or explode into anguish. I didn't give in to my vomitus urge that came from the burst of self-loathing. But I shattered nonetheless.”

“Tell me something good about your life," I whispered, needing to hear that he wasn't as broken as I thought him to be.Peter breathed into the handset for about two minutes. I began wondering if he was about to hang up, or had fallen asleep, when he answered. "You." It was so quiet I almost didn't hear it. And then he hung up before I could ask him to repeat himself.I fell asleep, grinning, with the phone still clutched in my hand and my milk souring on the coffee table.”

“My father married my mother three days after they met.Your father also killed and maimed people for a living. How about we just place him in the Not-To-Emulate pile?"Shattered Glass by Dani Alexander (Chpt 14)”