Have you heard of the legends of sleeping kings? The legends that heroes like Llewellyn and Glendower and Arthur aren’t really dead, but are instead sleeping in tombs, waiting to be woken?

You're not going to die," I told her, lifting my head to look at her. "I'm not done writing songs about you yet.

The sun shines through the window And the sun shines through your hair It seems like you're beside me But I know that you're not there. You would sit beside this window Run your fingers through my hair You were always there beside me But I know that you're not there Oh, to be by your side once again Oh, to hold your hand in mine again Oh, to be by your side once again Oh, to hold your hand in mine again-

The journal and Gansey were clearly long acquainted, and he wanted her to know. This is me. The real me.

It's like thinking you're going to heaven, but when you get there it turns out to be Cleveland.

It was exactly what I wanted-beautiful distraction.

Sam looked at me, yellow eyes catching and holding me. "I miss being me. I miss you. All the time.