He looked good, like sin in a suit.

And sometimes you meet someone who doesn't see you any differently if you tell them. That is everything.

-"Leslie? What are you doing?"
-"Choosing. I'm mine. Not anyone else's."
-"I'm still yours, though. That won't ever change, Shadow Girl.

-"You won't like me if I'm cruel."
-"I don't like you now."
-"We don't lie."
-"I'm mortal, Irial. I can lie all I want to.

Maybe the girl would get strong enough to withstand an ink exchange with one of the chosen faeries. If not, he could always give her to one of the weaker fey. It seemed a shame to waste a lovely broken toy.

Talking won't change it. But sometimes it was what she wanted most, to tell someone; often, though, she just wanted to escape those horrid feelings, to escape herself, so there was no pain, no fear, no ugliness.