1
" Fear no more," said Clarissa. Fear no more the heat o' the sun; for the shock of Lady Bruton asking Richard to lunch without her made the moment in which she had stood shiver, as a plant on the river-bed feels the shock of a passing oar and shivers: so she rocked: so she shivered.Millicent Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her. No vulgar jealousy could separate her from Richard. But she feared time itself, and read on Lady Bruton's face, as if it had been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life; how year by year her share was sliced; how little the margin that remained was capable any longer of stretching, of absorbing, as in the youthful years, the colours, salts, tones of existence, so that she filled the room she entered, and felt often as she stood hesitating one moment on the threshold of her drawing-room, an exquisite suspense, such as might stay a diver before plunging while the sea darkens and brightens beneath him, and the waves which threaten to break, but only gently split their surface, roll and conceal and encrust as they just turn over the weeds with pearl. "
14
" The very next day after Miss West and I’d talked about her son and missions, she was the same as she’d always been: volatile and unhappy with a hatred that spewed out of her like missiles. I thought I understood why. She must have hated us for being alive when her son was dead.
Lately the class has been turning against her. They’re openly hostile, and they whisper plots for revenge. It seems unfair, the way unhappiness flows out of a person, just to ricochet.
“Adam…do you think we have a missions?”
He looks at me with a confused expression. “What kind of missions?”
“I don’t know. Do you think you have a mission?”
I shrug, disappointed. If Adam doesn’t know, then I guess no one does.
A girl turns onto our hall, eyes red and sad, and she passes, Adam sends her a smile. Her whole face brightens and she sends him a smile back.
Hate ricochets, but kindness does too. Page 178. "
― Robin Roe
16
" Avalon is full of desperate people.’ She bites at her lower lip this time, fumbling her hands, knitting her fingers into the bundle of plastic coin bags in her grasp.
‘Are you implying that I’m desperate?’ I say, one eyebrow tilting.
‘You don’t need to be desperate… you can have anyone... I…’ she trails off. Looking up and trying to search the line of shops for the bank. I repulse her, I make her want to run. Why is this so hard? I need to get inside of her, I need to know what she is thinking, what she is wanting.
It surely isn’t me she wants. Not to the extent that I… want her.
‘You?’ I entice her to finish her sentence but she doesn’t, she stares off into the bustling crowds, memory flashing her eyes with a darkness.
‘Madi wouldn’t fumble like this.’
Oh, she would fumble, but not in the way you are, Elli.
‘You’re not her, Elli.’ I entice her again, trying to force the dark memory, the sadness from her.
‘No, if I was, you wouldn’t have wanted anyone else.’
A breath hitches in her throat, she puts a hand over her mouth and says something else, her cheeks dance a shade of red that brightens and brightens until she apologises and quickens her pace. I chuckle, pulling at her arm and encircling one around her waist, pulling her back to me. Beneath my touch, her body trembles. When I raise my hand, my palm touching her cheek, I am sure she isn’t breathing.
‘I don’t want anyone, Elli.’ My eyes burn, consuming her with my gaze. She is like a frightful deer, struggling beneath me with a gaze that cannot quite meet mine. When she does, it is only for a brief second before falling down and all I see is the gentle flutter of her raven flashes.
‘I told you. I want someone I cannot have.’
‘That is a really harsh way of telling someone you’re not interested. "
― Charlotte Munro , Grey October (East Hollow Chronicles)