She knew she shouldn't feel that way about a monster, but right then, she wanted nothing more than a monster of her very own.

He’s quiet then. We lie next to each other, twin corpses waiting for burial.

She didn't know how much she'd been hoping that he still loved her, until she felt how much it hurt to realize he didn't.

She knew what it felt like to tremble like that before touching someone -- desire so acute that it became despair.

You're like this leopard who's pretending to be a house cat.

He must have been handsome when he was alive and was handsome still, although made monstrous by his pallor and her awareness of what he was. His mouth looked soft, his cheekbones as sharp as blades, and his jaw curved, giving him an off-kilter beauty. His black hair a mad forest of dirty curls.

But if you didn't believe in monsters, then how were you going to be able to keep safe from them?