That Quality Frightens Me Now, Because I

Caleb," I Say, "i Love You." His Eyes Gleam With Tear As He Says, "i Love You, Too, Beatrice.

Why Do You Say Vague Things If You Don't Want To Be Asked About Them?

You Think My First Instinct Is To Protect You. Because You're Small, Or A Girl, Or A Stiff. But You're Wrong." He Leans His Face Close To Mine And Wraps His Fingers Around My Chin. His Hand Smells Like Metal. When Was The Last Time He Held A Gun, Or A Knife? My Skin Tingles At The Point Of Contact, Like He's Transmitting Electricity Through His Skin. "my First Instinct Is To Push You Until You Break, Just To See How Hard I Have To Press." He Says, His Fingers Squeezing At The Word Break. My Body Tenses At The Edge In His Voice, So I Am Coiled As Tight As A Spring, And I Forget To Breathe.

Everything Inside Me Screams For Just One More Kiss, One More Word, One More Glance, One More.

I Have A Theory That Selflessness And Bravery Aren't All That Different.