ya

Every spot his mouth touches closes the empty spaces inside.

There is no way of stopping death, not here. You can prolong it. But at some point, it is bound to catch up to you.

A pang of deep longing ripples through me. I__ torn between my promise to send Aydan to the Abyss and my need to keep him safe. The opposing forces fragment what remains of my mind, breaking me down once again.

There are few things I hate more than feeling weak. Needing help or failing top the list. The worst, however, is knowing that all three just happened.

I think sometimes in literature we kind of police ourselves. I know a lot of people talked about Twilight, and they would say, oh, but the heroine, she lets this man make her decisions. And I thought, that may not be the particular fantasy or trope that works for me.But listen man, I read Wuthering Heights. I wanted me a little Heathcliff action. I mean, why can't we indulge that fantasy and also be like, __nd now I would like the ERA passed, please. Also, this lipstick is fuckin' killer.

Forever. He carved the word into his soul. Kiera was his forever, deformity or no deformity.

It was enough to drive me mad. I was no longer myself and yet I was so much more me than I had ever been before. ~Katherine Demure

Jenna walked in between desks and plonked herself down behind hers, noticing AGAIN that the teacher hadn__ graced the class with his zitty presence. She thought Mr. Kennan needed to get fired, which said a lot, because she rarely paid attention to ugly teachers. She__ discussed this with the principal two weeks back when she__ been sent to his office after getting caught sleeping. She__ told him that if he employed more hot teachers like Mr. Daniels then maybe she wouldn__ pass out from boredom. The principal gave her a week__ detention because of that comment, saying that she needed to take things more seriously. But she WAS being serious.Jenna Hamilton from Graffiti Heaven (Chapter 28).

The fact that at the moment the distinction is being made, a young adult, as opposed to an adult, is the one reading it. In other words, I don__ entirely believe in the distinction. A great book is a great book, and it__ impossible to say what part of a person is going to connect to it.

Ien stopped her voice with more kisses, more promises of a world filled with only them.

My thoughts are quiet, but not calm. There is a terror on the edge of the silence, a terror fed by my burning flesh and the stench of death.

I__ not certain what I notice first, the bright flickering light that illuminates the darkness underneath my eyelids, or the shrill screams that pull me form the dredges of sleep. Either way, I__ awake. And afraid.

I never mastered anything. I am damaged. Broken. And I always will be.

Tequila! Would you not think fallen angels would be immune to it." "Fallen, hate that word! I prefer..misplaced

She opens her eyes as the fury continues, pinning me with her glare. Her gaze reached into my soul as I spin the music back to the simple melody at its core__ur melody. A moment of recognition washes over her, followed by regret, fear, terror. An entire kaleidoscope of emotions exists within a single heartbeat.

She slips into the seat at our table, refusing to look up at me. I reach for her hand, sending a shiver through me when our finger tips touch. She glances at me, her eyes filled with a feral fear that reaches into my depths, pulling on emotions I refuse to acknowledge. Things I can__ feel now. Won__ feel ever again.

I press my lips hard against hers, tasting her desire, her pain, her love, her confusion. At once I__ in two lives, two worlds, two places.

A hand in mine.. hot. Breath on my neck... sweet. The feel of lips on my own... forbidden.