Swiftcurrent Creek [m] I can feel the city crumbling around me

Reverie wanted to tell herself that she didn't know why it mattered whether Moss found her ugly or not, but she knew. She wanted to pretend that every ounce of her being was not hanging on Moss's reaction — but it was. There was emotion in her face, Reverie could see it, but it was subtle and gone before she understood what it was. She thought numbly that Moss was still as beautiful as ever, and would remain so while Reverie grew sick and warped by pregnancy.
You could never be ugly. Her heart leapt into her throat unbidden. I'm sorry, Reverie stepped forward, hesitant but somewhat frantic too, then again, and then doubted herself and took a step back — I'm sorry, I'm just so - scared. She did not think Moss would hug her if she asked, but she wanted to; what kept her silent in the end was the thought that maybe she did not want to know what Moss's embrace felt like after all.