Hurt Quotes

“But looking at you was nothing like looking at those pictures. When I first saw,” he said, looking down at her chest, then up again to meet her eyes, “it hurt, almost a physical pain. Since you finished chemo, you've gotten so strong again. Sometimes I almost forget what you've been through. But seeing your scars, they reminded me of your hurt. How you've been cut apart. What you gave up.”

It was important, not keeping herself back from him, putting parts of herself off limits. But it stung when he sank down to brush his lips over the two biggest scars.

“But your scars are beautiful. I mean, I look at them, and I want to kiss, I want to touch, I feel this tenderness for them. You know how when you love someone, when you've been with them a long time and you know all the little lines and curves and planes of their body, how you look at little parts of them—the corner of their mouth, the back of their hand, the little crease where their earlobe meets their jaw—and you can feel like you're in love with that little piece of them? Maybe soon, I'll look at your scars like that. But right now, it's this feeling I've never had for a part of someone's body, before, because they promise me you're well. That you get to live. That we get to have a long life together.”

Her love for him was swelling up in her chest, the way it did sometimes, an ache she wanted to hold on to.”
― Varian Krylov, Hurt

“Which side is yours?”
“They're both mine,” he answered mirthfully, having gotten a good bit of teasing over the years for his indiscriminate sprawling. “Take whichever side you like, and be prepared to defend it.”
― Varian Krylov, Hurt

“The look of someone who knows that in taking what she wants, she will be leaving something of herself behind.”
― Varian Krylov, Hurt

“I just feel so guilty.” Her stinging eyes burned with fresh tears. “I don't know why I can't ... I can't...”
“Make love to him?”
She nodded.
“Let him see you?”
She nodded again, tears sliding down her face. She mopped them up with the wet tissue she'd wadded in her fist.
“Are you scared he won't love you anymore, after he's seen how you look now?” her dad asked gently.
“No.”
“Are you scared he won't be attracted to you anymore? That he won't want to be your lover?”
“No.”
“What are you scared of, Vanka?”
“I don't feel the same way about myself, now. I don't even know how to explain it. I'm not ashamed. I don't feel ugly. But the way I was, who I was when we ... when we fell in love, I'm not that person, now.”
“You're not in love with him anymore?”
“I am,” her voice broke on a sob. “So in love. Like I never knew it could be. I thought I loved David. I thought I loved Mark. But, god, Dad, the way I love Galen...”
― Varian Krylov, Hurt

“Khalid?” It was dark now, and she couldn't see his face, but she knew he was right there, an inch or two from their last kiss. “What was that look? Earlier, after we'd finished?”
There was a long silence in the dark before Khalid finally spoke.
“It is only that it has been a long time since I have made love.” There was another long quiet. She waited for him. “Of course, I love Galen. But you know already, we are only tender when we are not f****ing. And you and I, we were tender, before, but we did not feel then as we feel now.”
“No.”
“I had forgotten how big that feeling is.”
Vanka pulled Khalid to her, cradling his naked body against hers.”
― Varian Krylov, Hurt