Atmosphere

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

She is not anxious or terrified or heartbroken. All of that will come later.

The space between you and the star is time.

Once she’d loved someone long enough, she’d understand that anything is possible, that she was capable of worse and greater acts than she knew.

She had to exist only in the base of her brain, the heavy putty of her heart. And so she put everything away except Yes, and I want, and More, please.

“I want to do everything with you. I want to be so close to you that I’m worried I’m being creepy about it.”

“I want to take you everywhere. And do everything with you. And ask you every single question that’s been on my mind for months. And I want to know when you knew what was happening between us and I want to tell you when I knew. And I want to hold your hand in a quiet corner and I want to lie in bed and hear your heartbeat through your chest. I want to bring you coffee in bed. And I want to hear you tell me anything you’ve always wanted to tell someone. Because you know that you’ve met someone who desperately wants to listen.” Joan’s heart was in her throat, and she could not swallow it down. “No one has ever…said anything that wonderful to me before,”

Joan knew that she would not need to find a way to tell Vanessa how she felt. Vanessa would understand it. Which meant Joan would not need to learn how to be anything other than who she already was.

“Those hives of yours might just be the most romantic moment of my life.”

In all of her time spent watching others, she hadn’t picked up on this part of falling in love, that someone could look at you as if you were the very center of everything. And even though you knew better, you’d allow yourself a moment to believe you were worthy of being revolved around, too.

is so hard to come by. I don’t understand why anyone would begrudge anyone else for managing to find some of it.” “That’s because you’re too good for the world you love so much,”

“But you changed what I wanted, and what I thought was possible.”