I Don't Think Most People Take Honest

Christian Stretched Out Beside Her And Pulled Her Close. ʺbut For What Itʹs Worth, I Think Youʹd Be A Great Queen Too, Princess Dragomir.ʺ ʺyouʹre Going To Get Dirty,ʺ She Warned. ʺalready Am. Oh, You Mean From Your Clothes?ʺ He Wrapped His Arms Around Her, Heedless Of Her Damp And Muddy State. ʺi Spent Most Of My Childhood Hiding In A Dusty Attic And Own Exactly One Dress Shirt. You Really Think I Care About This T-shirt?ʺ

The Alchemists’ Beliefs Are My Beliefs,” I Say Quickly. She Arched An Eyebrow. “are They? I Would Hope Your Beliefs Would Be Your Beliefs.” I’d Never Thought About It That Way Before, But I Suddenly Hoped Desperately That Her Words Were True.

A Gun. I Had Been Brought Down By A Gun. It Was Practically Comical. Cheaters, I Thought.

We Studied Our Angels For A Few Moments More, Looking At Where We Had Lain Side By Side In That Sweet, Quiet Moment. I Wished What I’d Said Was True, That We Had Truly Left Our Mark On The Mountain. But I Knew That After The Next Snowfall, Our Angels Would Disappear Into The Whiteness And Be Nothing More Than A Memory.

The Future Of Our Relationship Hinged On Advice From A Fifteen-year Old Girl, A Probably Untrue Story From A One-eyed Chihuahua Trainer, And Me Unromantically – Yet Skillfully – Kissing You On Top Of Silverware And China?