She Is Mine, And I Am Hers.

...and Motioned Me Toward A Spot Next To A Middle-aged Moroi In A Very Formal And Very Designer Black Suit. The Suit Screamed, I'm Sorry The Queen Is Dead, And I'm Going To Look Fashionable While Showing My Grief

Gaining Superpowers Doesn't Mean You Know How To Use Them.

It Was Near Curfew Time, And I Was Dropping Him Off For The Night. He Shook His Head. "rose, I Don't Know If You're Crazy Or Not, But I'm Actually Starting To Think You Might Be The Best Guardian- Or Soon-to-be Guardian- Out There." "did You Just Give Me A Serious Compliment?" I Asked. He Turned His Back On Me And Headed Inside His Dorm. "good Night.

You Have An Interesting Set Of Morals," He Observed. "breaking Out Of Jail Is Okay. But Steal A Car, And You Sound Totally Outraged.

I Know How You Guys Feel About Us. I'm Not Stupid, And Believe Me, I've Tried To Get You Out Of My Head. But There Isn't Enough Liquor Or Art Or Any Other Distraction In The World To Do It. I Had To Stop Going To Wolfe's Because It Was Too Hard Being That Close To You, Even If It Was All Just Pretend Fighting. I Couldn't Stand The Touching. It Was Agonizing Because It Meant Something To Me－and I Knew It Meant Nothing To You. I Kept Telling Myself To Stay Away Altogether, And Then I'd Find Excuses… Like The Car… Anything To Be Around You Again.