What Have I Done?" I Whispered. Jill

Maybe You Don't Need Beauty Sleep, But Some Of Us Aren't So Lucky.

He Tilted His Head To The Side, Still Watching Me In That Same, Disconcerting Way. “some Things Are True, Drunk Or Sober. You Should Know That. You Deal In Facts All The Time.” “yeah, But This Isn’t—” I Couldn’t Argue With Him Looking At Me Like That. “i Have To Go. Wait… You Didn’t Take The Cross.” I Held It Out To Him. He Shook His Head. “keep It. I Think I’ve Got Something Else To Help Center My Life.

Do What? Come Up With A Clever Pun Referencing Jerome's Demonic Status? The Truth Is, I Usually Keep A Stash Of Them On Hand And—

I Didn’t Get Her Cutting At All. She’d Done It Sporadically, Ever Since The Accident And It Scared Me Each Time. She'd Try To Explain It To Me, How She Didn't Want To Die—she Just Needed To Get It Out Somehow. She Felt So Much Emotionally, She Would Say, That A Physical Outlet—physical Pain—was The Only Way To Make The Internal Pain Go Away. It Was The Only Way She Could Control It.

I’m Still Here, Still In Love With You, And Care About You More Than Any Other Guy Ever Will." -adrian-