What's that smell?" I froze. What? Did I really smell so distasteful he had only to lean in my direction to catch a putrid whiff of me? I stayed the urge to break his freaking nose for pointing out my stinkiness. He sniffed again. "I can't place it." "How bad is it?" I asked, my cheeks heating. "It's good. Some kind of flower." My first thought: Hurray! I don't stink. My second: Ohmygod!

He had no one but himself to blame, for he’d opened himself up to it. Just a fraction at first, like a crack in a window. But the funny thing was, once you welcomed in a breeze, there was no stopping what came next. A wind, a storm, thunder and lightning, until you could no longer reach the window to close it—and didn’t really want to anyway. That’s what this new darkness was. Evil in its purest form... -Paris

CPR dummy looked like him and had clearly been stabbed. Repeatedly. In the groin. He thought she might have used the dummy for target practice, and tried not to be offended. Key word: tried.

You are mine, woman, and I am yours. Until you, my life was desolate. I existed, but I didn't truly live. Now I live, even in my death.

"Are you trying to tell me that you've never been kissed?" I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. He looked so dubious, and his tone had bordered on insulting. "Yeah. So?" "So, I'm shocked, that's all. You're...you." In-sul-ting. "Me?" I asked stiffly. "Yeah. Hot," he said. Wait. Me? Hot? He laughed down at me. "No one's told you that, either, have they?" I could only shake my head. "You've clearly been hanging around idiots."

I have to know" "What? What do you have to know?" "What you taste like." Another step. What happens when you know?" she rasped. "I stop wondering. Stop dreaming of you every night, thinking of you every minute of every day." Another step closer. "I think you wonder, too. I think you dream of me and wonder. You hate yourself for it. You hate me for it, but you cannot stop.

I like to be admired from afar, and then complimented up close.