this is because i can spell konfusion with a k and i can like it
In the spring of 2003, Alec Lightwood is just trying to make it to graduation. He'll have to survive the local music scene, his family, and falling in love first.
How many nights has he entertained this very vision of Tang Fan, all lean long lines and li after li of smooth skin? Most, in some shape or another, since Tang Fan first stormed into his life and made his home in what wreckage he found there. Too many, but so few. To have it now, real enough to see, too far from reach to touch— it’s agony.
They were nearly at the end of this bout of fucking, when Sergei gave that damned scarf still looping over his shoulders a playful jerk and whispered in his ear if he would mind if he choked him a little?
Fitzjames contends with unparalleled excitations.
He’s done his fair share of fucking up in this line of work, but this might be the worst he’s ever done it.
After— after. When Tang Fan is home, and safe, Sui Zhou sees to it that he is comfortable, then moves to take leave of his imposition.
Like a wolf, Hickey senses Crozier's weakness; like a wolf, he descends on him. Like a wolf, he can hardly do anything else.
Aumerle lives to regret many things.
Sui Zhou's WeChat starts firing off around midday, which does at least immediately pare down the pool of potential suspects.
(What urge will save him now that sex won't?)