Most Maidens Are Perfectly Capable Of Rescuing

The Fact That People Are Already Reading And Loving Something I Wrote Is Still Hard To Believe.

Trapped In Silence, Marco Traces Apologies And Adorations Across Celia's Body With His Tongue. Mutely Expressing All The Things He Cannot Speak Aloud. He Finds Other Ways To Tell Her, His Fingers Leaving Faint Trails Of Ink In Their Wake. He Savors Every Sound He Elicits From Her. The Entire Room Trembles As They Come Together. And Though There Are A Great Many Fragile Objects Contained Within It, Nothing Breaks.

Timing Is A Sensitive Thing.

I Have Tried To Let You Go And I Cannot. I Cannot Stop Thinking Of You. I Cannot Stop Dreaming About You.

Our Instructors Do Not Understand How It Is. To Be Bound To Someone In Such A Way. They Are Too Old, Too Out Of Touch With Their Emotions. They No Longer Remember What It Is To Live And Breathe Within The World. They Think It Simple To Pit Any Two People Against Each Other. It Is Never Simple. The Other Person Becomes How You Define Your Life, How You Define Yourself. They Become As Necessary As Breathing. Then They Expect The Victor To Continue On Without That. It Would Be Like Pulling The Murray Twins Apart And Expecting Them To Be The Same. They Would Be Whole But Not Complete.