Everything's a painting, anyway," Fawn said. "That's what I think. We live inside a giant painting, only we can't see who's holding the paintbrush. Any time something strange happens in your life it's because the painter added a new brushstroke you can't see. The big picture keeps changing, but we're stuck in the small one.
He broke away from my mouth and trailed his lips down the front of my throat. I felt his lips close around my scars. He kissed away their ugliness. His lips parted in tingling butterfly kisses that drained the strength from my knees. I realized he was mouthing words against my skin. Not words. Just one word.Mine.
I liked Rafael. I liked listening to Rafael. I liked touching him. I liked it when he took me in his arms and made me feel like I belonged to him, like our hearts ran together as one, indistinct. Rafael was beautiful. Rafael was my heart's friend. I didn't understand how that meant I liked boys. As far as I knew, it only meant I liked Rafael.More than liked Rafael.