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Run to You

Charlotte Stein

Top 10 Best Quotes

“I want to kiss you. I want to so badly I can barely think of anything else. When you enter a room it’s my only thought, and it torments me night and day.”

“I don’t need more space. I need less space. I need the minimum amount of space possible. This right here –” I say, then gesture to the place where our bodies are glued together “– is too much space.”

“Because that is how you feel, is it not? You feel so perfectly invisible, like no one could ever notice a single thing about you. And, in fact, you’ve grown so used to this state of affairs that you’ve started to fall in love with it. You like being in the background, hidden from view … lingering around the edges at parties … keeping out of conversations in case someone finds you as insufferably dull as you’ve always suspected you are.”

“And yet I feel I have to ask: if this is all the case, and you are so little and so weak … why is it that I could feel your presence through five inches of wood? Can you tell me, invisible Alissa? Why are you – in silence – stronger and stranger than any woman I’ve actually met?”

“He speaks in a different language with a voice that's already like sand shifting over metal, and my insides flip out. He's inadvertently flicked some weird switch inside me, and there's no turning back once it's there. Apparently I really like hearing someone speak in Hungarian or Polish or Russian or whatever it is he's speaking, while trapped in a closet. I'm a secret subscriber to Trapped in a Polish Closet magazine.”

“All that matters is the way he’s angling my face up to his, thumb and forefinger still on my jaw and my chin. It makes me think of someone taking a drink, only the drink in question is my lips. He wants to taste me there, and oh, that’s exactly what it feels like. He doesn’t press his mouth to mine, too hard and too frantic. He just dips in, getting a little of me on his lips before going back for something deeper and sweeter. It’s so much sweeter I could cry. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this for a thousand years, and, if his reaction is anything to go by, so has he.”

“You don’t know what I long for.” “How can you imagine so when you make it this clear? You long for something different, and lovely, and exciting,” he says, as my eyes drift closed. “You long to be outside your own skin, for just a little while.”

“I’m on the other end of the spectrum from oblivious, whatever that’s called. Extreme noticing, perhaps? Severe and chronic attention-paying?”

“He kisses me until my mouth is sore from his stubble, and most likely cherry red. Then, when he sees its ripe colour, he kisses me more to make up for it. He kisses me between courses and in the middle of them too, licking chocolate from my lips when I accidentally make a mess – so uncaring of whatever anyone in here might think.”

“Don’t leave me again,” he tells me, only he doesn’t just do it once. He says it over and over, until I’m melting. He’s going to have to let go, because hands traditionally can’t hold onto liquidised people.”

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Book Keywords:

kinks, humor, kissing, needing-space, invisible

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