Love. It's so close to hate, it's almost indistinguishable. But this is how it was for the two of them. Love and hate. Life and death. Joy and anguish.

When she reached the shallow end, Kingsley held out his hand and pulled her up, but she lost her step and fell into his arms, her body crushing momentarily against his.

I don't need anything to get high. I'm high on life.

Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. And this is mine. Sacrifice seems to be my destiny. A funny thing for a selfish man, isn't it? They always called me weak back then.

You cannot be with someone just because you don’t want to hurt him. You have your own happiness to think about.

And Kingsley being Kingsley, he smiled as he pretended to pull the trigger.

Because love was not the answer to every question. Because real love meant sacrifice. Sometimes love means letting go.