People can perfect whatever facade they want, but everyone holds their sins close to their skin.
You're my Red Reaper, and I've missed you terribly.
Good. If you checked your e-mail every five minutes, or keep texting and Tweeting in the middle of our conversation, I might snap your neck out of sheer principle.
Thatโs right, you nasty little vixen, bite me harder." Ian urged.
Will the real Red Reaper please stand up?
I was going to die, but I didn't have to grovel.