20!
20. 4 sentences from your work that you’re proud of:
I’m working on a The 100 fic right now, and I’m kind of in love with this particular passage (which is also longer than four sentences, whoops).
“I understand, Lexa,” she snarls, “but I still hate you.”
She says it coldly, like a promise, like a curse. She saysit because she knows it will wound her – because it’s obvious now that shestill cares, that she’s always cared – and Clarke would do anything if it meantdigging into the heart she knows beats beneath her chest, however much Lexamight wish it didn’t. She’d do anything to hurt her, to make her feel afraction of what she’d felt as she’d watched Lexa’s retreating form disappearat the mountain, what she’d felt when she’d pulled the lever. Anything to makeher ache like that.
In spite of this, however, Lexa doesn’t flinch at her words.She doesn’t even blink. She only swallows, and nods.
“I know,” she says, her voice still so soft, barely louderthan a breath.
Clarke is the first to look away, unable to bear theunderstanding in her eyes any longer.
But you really should join me in the pit that is this show/fandom. We’ve still got a long wait until TWD comes back, so at least it’d give us something new to yell about for a while. Also, thank you!
