I remember now.
Isabel wore a white dress with a blue corset; her voice like the friction of turning pages to the next beautiful word.
“Do you think Sol'Mano and the rest only fear loss?” asked Isabel. Corwyn threw herself over her partner’s arm.
Corwyn enjoyed showing skin: a black ruffled blouse trimmed to reveal her navel. The sound from her lips was as if the ears learned the experience of taste; impossible and begging the listener’s attention: the smoothness of sweetest vanilla.
“It’s as if...