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I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine. ―Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Shit on a platter.
Yes, I am guilty of primping, but it’s not vanity; it’s war paint. One does not go into battle without armor.
“A lady friend once told me that when a woman wears red lipstick to meet a man, it’s for two possible reasons. Either she wants him to fuck her, or she wants to tell him to fuck off.”
“And you’re still an ass canal.”
Shit sticks.
But the second she walked back into my life, I became aware of two uncomfortable but undeniable facts: I am lonely as hell, and Delilah Baker feels like home.
“Countless people call me Saint. Only you call me Macon with that bitter honey voice.”
“You always did flow around a kitchen like you were dancing to music only you could hear.”
Fuck if I hadn’t loved every second of our argument. Yep, we’re definitely flirting. Angry flirting. Is there a word for that? There should be.
“I hate that saying. Meanness is meanness. To tell a girl that there’s some sort of benevolent action behind it all is to say that it’s okay for her to be victimized.”
“I think that if my heart was ready to hear the truth, no lie my brain could come up with would matter.”
“Dick weasel?
“But sometimes what we want isn’t what we get.”
you once said that the stars overhead gave you hope because, even though it took years for their light to reach us, their starlight still gave us joy when we looked upon them.
“We are such stuff as dreams are made on”
“You stumbled or stubbed your toe on the way in and muttered ‘shit sticks’ under your breath.”
Because when you truly want something, it will hurt that much more if it gets taken away.
No one sees me the way you do. It’s a gift I never saw coming, but I treasure it with my whole heart.”
“I’m going to love you, Macon Saint. So long and so hard you’re not going to remember what it feels like to be without love.”
In other news, today I called Macon Saint an ass canal, the most vile and disgusting thing I could think of.
Mama heard him call me a fuck-munch.
