Death is Peaceful, Life is Harder

"Happy birthday," he sighed, and leaned down to touch his lips to mine. I reached up on my toes to make the kiss last longer when he pulled away. He smiled my favorite crooked smile, and then he disappeared into the darkness.

You still owe me a yellow Porsche.

You know when things are bad when you feel guilty for being rude to vampires. Jacob B. Ch.14

How old are you?” “Seventeen,” he answered promptly. “And how long have you been seventeen?” His lips twitched as he stared at the road. “A while,” he admitted at last.

Vampirism, for me, was a way to live in fantasy and have superpowers, but not just in a really perfect, happy, everything is great way. It's superpowers with a cost. It's having to be the villain, and what do you do about that.

You haven’t changed at all. I expected a perceptible difference, but here you are, red-faced just like always.