What If Following Her Heart Means Rose

My Mind... It's Who I Am. I Think I'd Rather Suffer Any Other Injury In The World Than Have My Mind Tampered With.

I'm Really Not Good With Impulse Control.

But When The Other End Of The Line Picked Up, It Was His Voicemail That Answered, Not The Man Himself. "i Know How Devastated You Must Be To Miss Me," His Cheery Voice Said, "but Leave A Message, And I'll Try To Ease Your Agony As Soon As Possible.

Look Who's Calling The Cauldron Black." "kettle. It’s A Kettle. Get Your Metaphors Right." "that Wasn’t A Metaphor. It Was A, You Know..." He Stared Off Into Space, Blinking. "one Of Those Things That’s Symbolic Of Another Thing. But Isn’t The Same Thing. Just Like It." "you Mean A Metaphor?" "no! It’s Like A Story...like...a Proverb! That’s It." "i’m Pretty Sure That Wasn’t A Proverb. Maybe It Was An Analogy." "i Don’t Think So.

I Nearly Dropped The Plate I Held. "you've Asked Me Out Tons Of Times." "not Really. I've Made Inapproprite Suggestions And Frequently Pushed For Nudity. But I've Never Asked You Out On A Real Date. And, If Memory Serves, You Did Say You'd Give Me A Fair Chance Once I Let You Clean Out My Trust Fund." "i Didn't Clean It Out," I Scoffed.