If I Were Thinking Straight, I'd Take

"this Isn't Over," I Said. "after Everything We've Been Through, You Don't Get The Right To Brush Me Off. I'm Not Letting You Off That Easily." I Wasn't Sure If It Was A Threat, My Last Stab At Defiance, Or Irrational Words Spoken Straight From My Splintered Heart. "i Want To Protect You," Patch Said Quietly. He Stood So Close. All Strength And Heat And Silent Power. I Couldn't Escape Him, Now Or Ever. He'd Always Be There, Consuming My Every Thought, My Heart Locked In His Hands. I Was Drawn To Him By Forces I Couldn't Control, Let Alone Escape. "but You Didn't".

It Makes No Difference To Me Whether I Shoot You Or You Fall To Your Death.” “it Does Make A Difference,” I Said, My Voice Small But Confident. “you And I Share The Same Blood.” I Lifted My Hand Precariously, Showing Him My Birthmark. “i’m Your Descendant. If I Sacrifice My Blood, Patch Will Become Human And You’ll Die. It’s Written In The Book Of Enoch.

First,” He Said, Coming Behind Me And Placing His Hands On The Counter, Just Outside Of Mine, “choose Your Tomato.” He Dipped His Head So His Mouth Was At My Ear. His Breath Was Warm, Tickling My Skin. “good. Now Pick Up The Knife.” “does The Chef Always Stand This Close?” I Asked, Not Sure If I Liked Or Feared The Flutter His Closeness Caused Inside Me. “when He’s Revealing Culinary Secrets, Yes.

I Gave Up Something I Wanted For Something I Need. And I Need You, Angel. More Than I Think You'll Ever Know.

...i Need A Boyfriend. And To Get A Boyfriend, You Have To Look Good. Doesn’t Hurt To Smell Good Too.