"Step into my fucking office."
Near misses in the Greek tutorial.
On the road, after the walls come down. Tris looks for answers; Peter looks for an ending.
Art for reine_des_corbeaux.
Sing, o Muse, of the wrath of a philosophy major upon realizing his roommate/boyfriend has borrowed his copy of Fear & Trembling and has no intention of giving it back. Scenes from one highly troubled semester.
The two of them are marked by water.
In Gaul, Antony makes a lucky escape; Caesar comes to his bedside to offer a commendation.
Tom and Peter, partners in disguise.
There in that white-gilt bedroom like a tomb, where I believe none of Gatsby's guests had ever before set foot except by mistake — none until Daisy, and I was only her adjunct and proxy, an accessory to her presence there in the house. He had forgotten about me then. He had forgotten about me now. I was his only witness.