#periwinkle aster

I wanna know…

❝ “No one here likes me, you know.” It was the sort of arbitrarily timed statement Wink made as if liking were a measurable substance, like flour, and she had somehow failed to purchase enough. She never seemed quite certain what it meant to be liked, or to like, or to be tolerated in a respectable quantity. Platonic, romantic—there were too many kinds, and Wink kept trying to sort them all into neat piles. ❞