I’m conflicted. On one hand, I want to stay in and catch up on The Vampire Diaries, but there’s this really awesome restaurant I’ve been wanting to try out.

In the midst of a foggy field, the answers are hidden But the impossible journey deems them forbidden. The Reaper of Death, the Angel of Life. They walk together in day and night.

Once a blooming red rose, full of streaming life in its veins. Now a wilting black petal rupturing with death and pain.

When it all comes down to it, it’s just me and her against the world. Always has been.

I can handle scars, especially one's on the outside.

Because people fear those who are different. And fear can make people do stupid things.

You're like my favorite song, Nova. The one that I never want to forget. That I want to play over and over again.