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“You deserve better than me,” Auden says. We’re now so close that even in the darkness I can see his eyes are rimmed with red. I can see a faint line in his cheek I’ve never seen before—a tiny scar that only reveals itself when the shadows are swirling just right. “You deserve someone who already knows who they are.” “I know who you are, Auden Guest,” I tell him softly. “I can know for the both of us.”
Any of us can be anything. All of us can be all things. What’s the point of searching for the divine if that’s not true once you find it?
