I Study Her,” Patch Said. “i Figure

You Should Shower," I Said. "right Now." "i Smell That Bad?" (patch) Actually, He Smelled That Good.

He Felt Warm And Familiar. He Felt Solid And Safe. I Wanted To Cling To His Shirt, Bury My Face Into The Warm Curve Of His Neck, And Never Let Go.

Heat Flushed Chauncey's Neck; It Took All His Energy To Curl His Hands Into Two Weak Fists. He Laughed At Himself, But There Was No Humor. He Had No Idea How, But The Boy Was Inflicting The Nausea And Weakness Inside Him. It Would Not Lift Until He Took The Oath. He Would Say What He Had To, But He Swore In His Heart He Would Destroy The Boy For This Humiliation.

I Personally Believe Patch Scared The Pants Off Normal, And It Took Off Running For The Far Side Of The World.

Normal And I Parted Ways When Pateir1ch Strolled Into My Life. Patch Has Seven Inches On Me, Operates On Cold, Hard Logic, Moves Like Smoke, And Lives Alone In A Supersecret, Superswanky Studio Beneath Delphic Amusement Park. The Sound Of His Voice, Low And Sexy, Can Melt My Heart In Three Seconds Flat. He’s Also A Fallen Angel, Kicked Out Of Heaven For His Flexibility When It Comes To Following Rules. I Personally Believe Patch Scared The Pants Off Normal, And It Took Off Running For The Far Side Of The World.