What you call love does not sound very beautiful. Think of the way we adore the Throne. That adoration makes us the best version of ourselves. We feel encouraged to go further with or instincts, not to change ourselves for love. If I were yours and you were mine, I would want you to be exactly as you are. I would never eclipse you with my desires.

I want you to know that I would do it all again. I will choose you every time.

I will always catch you when you fall

Oh yes, we're going to brawl, baby. Over you. Again.

We meet. We always meet, somehow we're always thrown together, no matter where I go, no matter how I try to distance myself from you. It never matters. You always find me.

Sometimes love needed a lift from its guardian angels, to get its feet off the ground. But once it made its first early beats toward flight, it had to be trusted to take wing on its own and soar past the highest conceivable heights, into the heavens-and beyond.

I get to live forever," he repeated. Luce was still lost, but he kept talking, a stream of words pouring out of his mouth. "I get to live, and to watch babies being born, and grow up, and fall in love. I watch them have babies of their own and grow old. I watch them die. I am condemned, Luce, to watch it all over again and again. Everyone but you." His eyes were glassy. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You don't get to fall in love--" "But...," she whispered back. "I've...fallen in love.