Love makes a person do strange things.

Brimstone once told me that to stay true in the face of evil is a feat of strength.

Like attracts like, beauty finds beauty, and freaks look on from the smoking section, aching.

How could you tell if your instincts were just hope in disguise, and if your hope was really desperation parading as possibility?

Alas. I am not an option.

Being near her was like balancing on a tipping world, trying to keep your footing as the ground wanted to roll you forward, hurl you into a spiral from which there was no recovery, only impact, and it was a longed-for impact, a sweet and beckoning collision.

And there's no better way to thaw a face, as it turns out, than with another face.