There are worse things than being lashed.
Evening is the customary time for intercourse, David has helpfully informed her, but it makes no difference here. Nothing makes any difference.
On Bazzard's first Christmas in London, the thorn of anxiety is keenly felt, and then drawn out a little.
“Why do you wear your face like that?”
Nie Huaisang's hand comes up partway to Meng Yao's face before his fingers curl inwards. Meng Yao's eyes go wide and tremulous before the corners of his mouth curl into a small smile, like one of the soundless laughs shared between them in the midst of a banquet speech.
Sixteen ways of looking at a rabbit.
The three of them go to see the redwoods.
Luo Binghe looks at Shen Qingqiu’s face carefully for any sign of recognition but finds none. Instead, Shen Qingqiu looks impressed, like he can’t imagine it. Luo Binghe preens at impressing Shen Qingqiu and he chooses to take this as a win in the series of battles in the war to make Shen Qingqiu remember. Luo Binghe just hopes that the battles will eventually come to an end.
Tybalt and Mercutio were childhood friends, of a sort.
His reputation for honesty isn't unearned.