Politeness Is Deception In Pretty Packaging.

I Am His, And He Is Mine, And It Has Been That Way All Along.

It Doesn't Take Skill To Stand In A Place Were No Bullets Find You, Or To Fire Into The Dark And Hit A Man You Didn't See.

I Wipe My Face With My Sleeve, Laughing So Hard My Stomach Hurts. If My Entire Life Is Like This, Loud Laughter And Bold Action And The Kind Of Exhaustion You Feel After A Hard But Satisfying Day, I Will Be Content.

Do You Know Him Well?" I Ask.i Am Too Curious; I Always Have Been. "everyone Knows Four," She Says. "we Were Initiates Together.i Was Bad At Fighting,so He Taught Me Every Night After Everyone Was Asleep." She Scratches The Back Of Her Neck, Her Expression Suddenly Serious. "nice Of Him." She Gets Up And Stands Behind The Members Sitting In The Doorway. In A Second, Her Serious Expression Is Gone,but I Still Feel Rattled By What She Said, Half Confused By The Idea Of Four Being "nice" And Half Wanting To Punch Her For No Apparent Reason.

Okay, Okay.” I Set My Hand On Top Of His And Guide It To My Chest, So It’s Right Over My Heart. “feel My Heartbeat. Can You Feel It?” “yes.” “feel How Steady It Is?” “it’s Fast.” “yes, Well, That Has Nothing To Do With The Box.” I Wince As Soon As I’m Done Speaking. I Just Admitted To Something. Hopefully He Doesn’t Realize That.