Is he right? Something precious, yes. He kisses me, and perhaps it isn't the same hunger, but it's a hunger in me none the less. A yearning, sharp and hollow under my breastbone. Sweet, too, and fierce. Being kissed by him is like turning my face up to the sun.

I do hunger for you.

"Do you remember that you knew how to be in the body of a girl?"

"Oh," I say, my fingers touching my lips, "I did remember, earlier." It seems less strange than when the memory came back to me. Most things would, looking at him now. "This body is - less malleable, I think. So far." I look down at it. My eyes are drawn back to his face. You would hold it like glass.