2
" I’m not like he is, you know,” he tells me, but that isn’t the part that stirs my cold, dead heart. It’s the words he follows it up with a second later, as though it barely takes him anything to let them out: “So if you want to run, run. I won’t sit on the side-lines and wait for you to slip away, like you never existed.” He pauses, thickly. Takes a second, in a way I can understand. “I’ll fight for you, El. I’ll always fight for you. "
― Charlotte Stein , Power Play
6
" His mouth is strange. It’s like it has no corners or definition around it, no real shape to keep it in place. Of course, occasionally when he talks it’s given a proper outline, but then, it’s not really the outline I want it to have. Movement just makes those lips plumper, more obviously sensuous, and then when he stops talking all I can see is how smooth and soft that mouth is. If he didn’t have that heavy jaw and all of that overflowing size, he’d look like a cute cartoon character, and nobody wants that. They want men with intense, cold, manly gazes. Not that warm, soft-focus eagerness. Not those sooty lashes that probably look beautiful spread over his cheeks – when he closes his eyes in ecstasy, maybe. "
― Charlotte Stein , Power Play
11
" I’m not like he is, you know,’ he tells me, but that isn’t the part that stirs my cold, dead heart. It’s the words he follows it up with a second later, as though it barely takes him anything to let them out: ‘So if you want to run, run. I won’t sit on the side-lines and wait for you to slip away, like you never existed.’ He pauses, thickly. Takes a second, in a way I can understand. ‘I’ll fight for you, El. I’ll always fight for you. "
― Charlotte Stein , Power Play