“she knows what he means, that they don’t have to touch. the same thing that’s happening to him is happening to her. she doesn’t need to crawl under the table ans suck his dick. too tire to interest either one of them. the flow is strong between them. the emotional tone. let it express itself. he sees her in her wallow and feel his pelvic muscles begin to quiver. he say, tell me to stop and i’ll stop. but he doesn’t wait for her to reply. there isn’t time. the tails of his sperm cells are lashing already. she is his sweetheart and lover and slut undying. he doesn’t have to do the unspeakable thing he wants to do. he only has to speak it. because they’re beyond every model of established behavior. he only wants to say the words.” _Eric Packer”

“Honey, I have a feeling he doesn’t think of you as a friend. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”She glanced at him and as if he could feel her gaze, he turned his eyes on her. Soft and hard all at once. “Yeah,” Mel said. “He promised to stop doing that.”

“He reassures her, but he feels her soft laughter travel through their joined hands — how did that happen? — as they make their way downstairs.And he understands. He understands why people hold hands: he’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying This is mine. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go.He wants her in his bedroom. And not in that way — no girl has ever been in his bedroom that way. It is his private space, his sanctuary. But he wants Clary there. He wants her to see him, the reality of him, not the image he shows the world. He wants to lie down on the bed with her and have her curl into him. He wants to hold her as she breathes softly through the night; to see her as no one else sees her: vulnerable and asleep. To see her and to be seen.”

“She wanted to write to him. Tell him she was glad he was back, that he was alive, that he was home and safe. But words to him no longer fit right in her her mouth.Words which belonged in his ownership were no longer hers to give. Silence was the only acceptable state her heart would grant. He would never know what he missed, because she refused to be heard in his presence. All the words he could have had, all the phrases he might have danced with. The smiles which would have been imprinted upon his heart, would never be. And his lips would never be able to reply to the words she could not say.”

“I find it intriguing that a girl who doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything would pretend as if she were in front of the entire class. Seems like there’d be a pretty fascinating reason.” He stares at her as if he is on to something. As if he already knows what she isn’t saying.“Why do you think?” He’s quiet. She glances at him. His eyes are still on her. “I think you’re a very interesting person.”She nods. “Because I throw books.”“Because you have secrets.”

“But his eyes say what he can’t. I see it, clear as day, even if she doesn’t. He’d give up his wings for her. All she’d have to do is ask.”