I Don't Have 'five' You Can Borrow.

You Belong To The Biblical Race Of Nephilim. Your Real Father Was An Angel Who Fell From Heaven. You're Half Mortal." The Boy's Dark Eyes Lifted, Meeting Chauncey's. "half Fallen Angel." Chauncey's Tutor's Voice Drifted Up From The Recesses Of His Mind, Reading Passages From The Bible, Telling Of A Deviant Race Created When Angels Cast From Heaven Mated With Mortal Women. A Fearsome And Powerful Race. A Chill That Wasn't Entirely Revulsion Crept Through Chauncey. "who Are You?

Any Happiness, No Matter How Brief, Seemed Better Than The Long, Simmering Torture Of Waking Up Day After Day, Knowing I Could Never Have Him.

I Couldn't Picture Myself With A Boyfriend, But If I Had To, I Envisioned A Nice Normal Guy Who Turned In His Math Homework On Time And Maybe Even Played Rec Baseball.

We All Know You're Beautiful, Scott.

I Believe In Destiny Angel. I Believe Every Choice I've Made Has Brought Me Closer To You. I Looked For You For A Very Long Time. I May Have Fallen From Heaven, But I Fell For You.