"Your husband is a schmuck to eat out when he's got a dish like you at home."
but boys are made for love, and so are you.
A little bit of contextless silliness, written for Elise. Mild Jehan-related naughtiness and an impatient Grantaire.
Everything is going to plan up until the precise moment it starts to fall apart.
What is love, listeners? What is it about the nature of love that makes the threat of harm so integral to its existence? If we were to pry open the human heart from its delicate cage and carefully carve into it with a scalpel, we would find no evidence of love.
Maria's not sure how it all happened, really.
Beginning a life in Montreal.
It was her own damn poor luck to be in love with both of them. (The three work a job, deny their feelings, and get kidnapped. In that order.)
No inch of his bared skin is a revelation to Tang Fan, but stripping before him still feels like an unveiling, marital. A deification of the profane.