Reading progress update: I've read 50%.
“Honestly, I don’t remember asking for the butterfly. I must have, but….” I shrug.
The next morning when I saw it in the mirror, bleary and hungover, I was so confused by what I saw that it took a moment for the lines to coalesce into something recognizable. A fucking butterfly. Something delicate and vulnerable and… gay. It was like I’d been branded with an emblem of everything I wanted to hide.
 - Roan Parrish)