I flash a smile and head into the kitchen, putting a pot of boiling water on the stove. I pour the pasta in afterwards and bring it out to her when done.
```` Danielle
"As long as it won't hurt you," I say.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I take off her jacket and move closer, my lips moving to her neck. My fangs trace down it and my skin starts to burn. I pull back before I turn to ashes and look at her, "See? I can't hurt you. No one can."
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
That's just what translation is, I think. That's all speaking is. Listening to the other and trying to see past your own biases to glimpse what they're trying to say. Showing yourself to the world, and hoping someone else understands. — Ramy (Babel by R. F. Kuang)