Alchemised

She hadn't realised how small and repetitive her life was until she experienced it being skimmed through like that.

“Prior commitments, I’m afraid.”

“You know,” Ferron said, jolting her from her thoughts, “when I heard it was you I’d be getting, I was looking forward to breaking you.”
He shook his head. “But I don’t think it’s possible to exceed what you’ve done to yourself.”

“Don’t. They’re never going to tell it how it was.”

"...at this point I suppose I deserve to burn. I wonder if you'll burn too."

“I’m glad I came here, though. I needed to see it. The city, where it all happened. It’s so hard not to have anyone to talk to about this. Mum says I can always talk to her or Dad, but she always has to take pills if I do and then she’ll start pressing her fingers near her heart when she thinks I won’t notice. I don’t want to put her through that just because I want to talk. And Dad, every time any of it comes up, I can tell he thinks I’m never going to speak to him again.”

“I swear,” he said, exaggeratedly reverent, his breath ghosting across her neck, “on the gods and my soul”—he laughed as he said it—“I won’t interfere.”