My heart is ripped open, shredded, leaking blood. I can't let him leave like this. We've been through to much to turn into strangers.

Day just smiles at me, an expression so sad that it breaks through my numbness, and I begin to cry. Those bright blue eyes. Before me is the boy who has bandaged my wounds on the streets of Lake, who has guarded his family with every bone in his body, who has stayed by my side in spite of everything, the boy of light and laughter and life, of grief and fury and passion, the boy whose fate is intertwined with mine, forever and always. "I love you," he whispers. "Can you stay awhile?

Without emotion, what's the point of being human?

Everything I am familiar with is gone.

Idiotic reply, June. Why don't you punch him in the face while you're at it. I turn even more flustered when I remember that I have actually pistol-whipped him in the face before. Romantic

I could be compassionate, if I wanted. Metias would be merciful. But I was never as good a person as my brother.

Now, as we stand three feet apart and stare at each other, I feel the full distance that comes with spending so much time apart, a moment filled with the electricity of a first meeting and the uncertainty of strangers.