"But please, when you see an opportunity..." He presses his hand to my cheek, cold and strong, and tilts my head up so I have to look at him. His eyes glint. They almost look predatory. "Ruin them."

What's this about flashing underwear?" says Uriah, sidestepping a bunk. "Whatever it is, I'm in.

We are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.

No one's perfect," I whisper. "It doesn't work that way. One bad thing goes away, and another bad thing replaces it." I traded cowardice for cruelty; I traded weakness for ferocity.

I can't tell him I need him. I can't need him, period -- or really, we can't need each other, because who knows how long either of us will last in this war?

Okay, okay.” I set my hand on top of his and guide it to my chest, so it’s right over my heart. “Feel my heartbeat. Can you feel it?” “Yes.” “Feel how steady it is?” “It’s fast.” “Yes, well, that has nothing to do with the box.” I wince as soon as I’m done speaking. I just admitted to something. Hopefully he doesn’t realize that.

Everyone has to blame something for the way the world is.