Evil Depends On Where You're Standing.

I Touch Her Cheek To Slow The Kiss Down, Holding Her Mouth On Mine So I Can Feel Every Place Where Our Lips Touch And Every Place Where They Pull Away. I Savor The Air We Share In The Second Afterwards And The Slip Of Her Nose Across Mine. I Think Of Something To Say, But It Is Too Intimate, So I Swallow It. A Moment Later I Decide I Don't Care. "i Wish We Were Alone," I Say As I Back Out Of The Cell. She Smiles. "i Almost Always Wish That.

The Truth Is... You Are Hurting Me. Not On Purpose, I Know That. But I Love You And Every Second That You Don´t Love Me Back...it Hurts.

With Four? Doing A Little... Addition? Multiplication?

I Feel The Urge, Familiar Now, To Wrench Myself From My Body And Speak Directly Into Her Mind. It Is The Same Urge, I Realize, That Makes Me Want To Kiss Her Every Time I See Her, Because Even A Sliver Of Distance Between Us Is Infuriating. Our Fingers, Loosely Woven A Moment Ago, Now Clutch Together, Her Palm Tacky With Moisture, Mine Rough In Places Where I Have Grabbed Too Many Handles On Too Many Moving Trains. Now She Looks Pale And Small, But Her Eyes Make Me Think Of Wide-open Skies That I Have Never Actually Seen, Only Dreamed Of.

My Dear Girl. I Am His Family. I Am Permanent. You Are Only Temporary.