That was my great ambition. Not to be Illea's princess. To be Aspen's.

Love is beautiful fear

America Singer, you get back here." He ran in front of me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we stood, chest to chest. "Tell me," he whispered. I pinched my lips together. "Fine, then I shall have to rely on other means of communication." Without any warning, he kissed me.

When we died, no one would know, and that fraction of a moment that was so important to who we were would be gone.

True love is usually the most inconvenient kind.

I know there was a time, when our country was new, when the assignment of these numbers helped organize something that was on the brink of not existing. But we are no longer that country. We are so much more now.

America Singer, one day you will fall asleep in my arms every night. And you'll wake up to my kisses every morning.