tess, tessa

 His expression was astonishingly nonchalant for someone who looked like he would pass out. “It was worth it. You looked… happy.”  “That’s crazy,” I said.  “Not the craziest thing I’ve ever done.” He smiled as he looked up at me. His eyes grew slightly unfocused, as though they were seeing more than just me. “What’s a little crazy here and there? I’m supposed to be doing experiments… why not see which is brighter: your aura or the sun?”

—  THE HATING GAME, SALLY THORNE (for @ladyeowyn)

“Tell me what to wish for.“ Tell me what to ask the sea for.” “To be happy. Happiness.” “I don’t think such a thing is had on Thisby. And if it is, I don’t know how you would keep it.” “You whisper to it. What it needs to hear. Isn’t that what you said?” “That’s what I said. What do I need to hear?” “That tomorrow we’ll rule the Scorpio Races as king and queen of Skarmouth and I’ll save the house and you’ll have your stallion. Dove will eat golden oats for the rest of her days and you will terrorize the races each year and people will come from every island in the world to find out how it is you get horses to listen to you. The piebald will carry Mutt Malvern into the sea and Gabriel will decide to stay on the island. I will have a farm and you will bring me bread for dinner.” “That’s what I needed to hear.”

Life and death were inextricably bound together, and we wavered between them. But we’d triumphed over death tonight. We were alive, and the world was beautiful. Life was beautiful, and I refused to waste mine.