One day, Dai received a gift from his sister: it was a pot of lamp oil. Over the next few weeks, as Dai used the pot, he noticed it had a strange quality. No matter how much oil he used, the pot was always full the next day.
That night, Dai lay down in bed, but he was so excited he could not sleep. He stared up at the pot on his shelf and daydreamed.
But there was one thing that Zelda could never do. Morg had felt her confusion, as they had shared the kiss. The magic could change Morg’s appearance, but it could not change the way her body felt. Zelda had felt her heavy arms, her sharp bones and rough skin, and she had moved away in surprise.
‘Fergus.’ She took my chin and pulled my face towards hers. ‘There’s a simple way to get around all this. I don’t want to fire Cassandra, of course.’ She was moving closer. Her breath smelt of whisky and cigarettes. My heart screamed at me to get out. ‘So just do what I say…’
She froze, inches away from kissing me.
Our classes are over. Clearly, you’re doing fine without me, and I’ll just break your ‘nice pen’ if you try to help me. We’re colleagues, anyway. Let’s keep it that way.
The handwriting was completely different, back to being a drunken spider, and it only got messier as my tears fell on the page.
‘You have such soft hands,’ she said.
‘You like that?’
‘Yes.’ She moved her thumb over the back of my hand, but she continued to look in my eyes. ‘And your lips are, too…’
I leant forward, ready to kiss her.
And then the door to her apartment flew open.
And there it was: PING! Attraction.
Here’s the thing. When I told you that I don’t wear makeup and lift weights, you probably assumed I only liked women. And you wouldn’t be wrong, 99% of the time. But that 1% of the time, I see men who just have something in their eyes. Like a frightened animal. And for some reason, the IT part of my brain says, ‘Well, let’s fix that.’
Pedro de Añasco was a coward. He didn’t know how he had gotten here, in the hills of South America, almost 5000 miles from his home in Spain, but here he was, standing outside the perfectly-white house of Sebastián de Belalcázar.
Diana was surprised. ‘You don’t make resolutions? But you’re the most serious person I know! You go to the gym, and cook healthy food, and read books… How do you do all that without New Year’s resolutions?’
Minerva drank some wine. ‘Let me ask you something. How much are you planning on drinking tonight?’
Diana frowned. ‘You plan how much you’re going to drink?’