I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure that I was dreaming.

I was an empty shell. Like a vacant house―condemned―for months I'd been utterly uninhabitable. Now I was a little improved. The front room was in better repair. But that was all―just the one small piece. He deserved better than that―better than a one-room, falling-down fixer-upper. No amount of investment on his part could put me back in working order.

And he was my friend. Not that he wouldn't kill me if things turned out that way, but he wouldn't like doing it. With humans, what more could you ask for a friend?

Time means little; I never notice its passing.

The Seeker needed a nice long lifetime eating sunshine.

Do you think I’ll ever get better at this? That my heart might someday stop trying to jump out of my chest whenever you touch me?

The outside world holds no interest for me without you." -Edward