"To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth"

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I closed my eyes. “Are you okay?” “I’m tired. My knee is hurting again and I’m trying to teleport myself upstairs.” “Um, Kate, you can’t do that.” “I know. But I’m trying very hard. Let me know if I start fading?

— Ilona Andrews