It Really Was Getting Difficult To Be

Stop. I Don't Do You Favors, Alec. I Do Things For You Because - Well, Why Do You Think I Do Them?" Something Rose Up In Alec's Throat, Cutting Off His Response. It Was Always Like This When He Was With Magnus. It Was As If There Were A Bubble Of Pain Or Regret That Lived Inside His Heart, And When He Wanted To Say Something, Anything, That Seemed Meaningful Or True, It Rose Up And Choked Off His Words. "i Need To Get Back To The Ship," He Said, Finally.

Every Teenager In The World Feels Like That, Feels Broken Or Out Of Place, Different Somehow, Royalty Mistakenly Born Into A Family Of Peasants. The Difference In Your Case Is That It's True.

Lord, You're Irish," Said Will. "can You Make Things That Don't Have Potatoes In Them? We Had An Irish Cook Once When I Was A Boy. Potato Pie, Potato Custard, Potatoes With Potato Sauce.

And You Won’t Leave Me?” “no.” Alec Said. “no, We Won’t Ever Leave You. You Know That.” “never.” Isabelle Took His Hand, The One Alec Wasn’t Holding, And Pressed It Fiercely. “lightwoods, All Together.” She Whispered. Jace's Hand Was Suddenly Damp Where She Was Holding It, And He Realized She Was Crying, Her Tears Splashing Down Crying For Him, Because She Loved Him; Even After Everything That Had Happened, She Still Loved Him. They Both Did. He Fell Asleep Like That, With Isabelle On One Side Of Him And Alec On The Other, As The Sun Came Up With The Dawn.

Am I Blind?" Will's Voice Floated Out Of The Darkness, Tinged With Annoyance. "i'm Not Going To Be At All Pleased If You've Blinded Me, Henry.