Who Cares About Pretty? I'm Going For

Uriah Looked Better Than He Did An Hour Ago--he Washed The Blood From His Mouth, And Some Of The Color Returned To His Face. I'm Struck, Suddenly, By How Handsome He Is-- All His Features Are Proportionate, His Eyes Dark And Lively, His Skin Bronze-brown. And He Has Probably Always Been Handsome. Only Boys Who Have Been Handsome From A Young Age Have That Arrogance In Their Smile. Not Like Tobias, Who Is Almost Shy When He Smiles Like He Is Surprised You Bothered To Look At Him From The First Place.

He Doesn’t Scowl, But His Mouth Is So Tense That I Know He’s Angry With Me. 'don’t Be An Idiot,' He Says. 'an Idiot?' Is He Talking About The Blanket? 'you Were Lying.

Sometimes,” He Says, Sliding His Arm Across My Shoulders, “people Just Want To Be Happy, Even If It’s Not Real.

She Taught Me All About Real Sacrifice. That It Should Be Done From Love... That It Should Be Done From Necessity, Not Without Exhausting All Other Options. That It Should Be Done For People Who Need Your Strength Because They Don't Have Enough Of Their Own.

The Only Reason I Haven't Shot You Yet Is Because He's The One Who Should Get To Do It," I Say. "stay Away From Him Or I'll Decide I No Longer Care.