Rose is in red, But never in blue, Sharp as a thorn, Fights like one too.

This is very domestic of you," he said. "It's kinda hot, really. Giving me all sorts of fantasies about you in an apron vacuuming my house.

You said you were a victim. That's why...that's why ultimately, you and I aren't matched for each other. In spite of everything that's happened, I've never though of myself that way. Being a victim means you're powerless. That you won't take action. Always...always I've done something to fight for myself...for others. No matter what.

Impossible situations are our specialty.

I'm really not good with impulse control.

I fought against her, trying to mount some kind of defense, but it was like fighting Dimitri on crack.

My captivity with Dimitri. The way his mouth—so, so warm, despite his cold skin—had kissed mine. The feel of his fangs pressing into my neck and the sweet bliss that followed... He looked exactly the same too, with that chalky white pallor and red-ringed eyes that so conflicted with the soft, chin-length brown hair and otherwise gorgeous lines of his face. He even had a leather duster on.