Incarnate

There's always the option of deciding for yourself who you are and what you'll become.

Did you have friend?" "I've read about them, but I don't believe they exist." "Your cynicism is amazing.

I'm not going to waste time being angry about things I can't control. If I only have one life, I should make the most of it.

Music overwhelmed me, soaked into my skin like water. I didn’t have words for the squiggles and dashes across the pages, or the way his fingers stretched across the keys to make my heart race. If I could hear only one thing for the rest of my life, this was what I wanted.

Simple things are often the most challenging.

I think I died to be reborn with you

I regret I didn't wear a jacket, or I'd give it to you." "I still have my wings. It wouldn't fit." "I'd carry them for you." "They're attached to the dress. It was the only way I could get them to stay." He squeezed my hand, tone mischievous. "In that case, I'd be especially happy to carry the wings." "Sam!" "It wouldn't be the first time I've seen you without clothes." "Sam!

It's difficult to focus on my studies when my best friend is struggling to get through the hour." He hesitated. "So I'm your best friend now?" My cheeks heated, and I shrugged. "It was between you and Sarit, and you have the piano. She just has honey.

He held on to me like I was a rock, the only thing keeping him from drifting out with the tide of dark memories. It was the first time I realized he need me too.

Ana, you make me ache in places that aren't even physical.

Ana is convinced she can bake anything." "I can. I'm going to make tarts and you're going to like them." Stef grinned. "If you need help putting out fires, I'm next door.

I only meant the impulsive part." "I'm a passionate person, that's all." His mouth turned up in a sly smile. "If I only get one life, I don't want to waste it by hesitating.

I'd give anything to make things right for you." He caressed my cheek, my hair, my back. Everywhere he touched, the angry fires cooled. I wished he'd touch my heart. "But I can't. I can help, but the hard work is all up to you. If you don't feel real, no one else can do it for you. I promise, though you've always felt real to me. From the moment I saw you jump off the cliff." "Sometimes I feel like I'm still jumping off the cliff.

He nodded, brushed hair off my face, and headed from the kitchen. "I hate being a teenager." "Why?" "Hormones." With a sad half smile, he left.

I don't want to lose you," he whispered again. "And I didn't want to be lost.

you're thinking too hard about how to respond to my stupidity. Have to be polite don't you?

My heart wasn't big enough to hold everything I felt, but I couldn't bear the thought of asking him to wait while I caught up.

my butterfly dress was visible on the washroom floor, bent and shredded wings and all. Cheeks hot, I remember what he'd suggested before someone shot him. His eyes found the dress too. "I was teasing about that. Unless you were looking forward to it. Then I meant every word.

Thanks to Sam, I was immortal.

It wasn’t an easy, sweet kiss like I’d imagined my first would be, but frustrated and hungry. That was good, better than easy and sweet, because after everything, I was frustrated and hungry for him, too.

Breathing in the scent of his hair, I realized I'd needed him my whole life, before we even met. First, his music and the way he taught me through books and recordings. Then, he saved my life and refused to abandon me no matter how much I deserved it.

You don't listen do you? Go away." ..."You don't listen," he said. Why wouldn't he just leave? I was going to burn up, anyway, with fire creeping up my arms to consume me. My eyes ached with fresh tears. I hated crying. "But if you listened," he murmured, "I'd be dead.

Who am I?" My first spoken words. "No one," she said. "Nosoul.

I'm surprised no one's come to greet you," Sam murmured. "Gawk. Not greet.

Before I had a chance to feel too sorry for myself, I turned toward the front of the cabin and found the bookcases carved right into the wall. Hundreds of leather-bound volumes rested in dim alcoves. I had no idea what stories or information they held. It didn’t matter. I wanted to absorb anything they had to say.

There was no telling if I’d be reborn when I died, but the waltz began and ended with my four notes. He’d built the music around things that reminded him of me. And now this name. My name.

His ascent was slow - the blow to the head must have disoriented him worse than he let on - so I went behind, ready to catch him should he lose his balance. Well, I could soften his landing when he hit the floor. Maybe.

I've never had a home before." That must have been all the sweets talking; I'd never have told him otherwise. "I mean, staying with Li, I never felt like I belonged. That's all." Sam touched my wrist, making me shiver. "You always have a home with me.

I was an afterthought, five thousand years later. A mistake, because Ciana was gone. I was the dissonant note on the end of a masterpiece symphony. I was the brushstroke that ruined the painting.