“You aren’t running from me, are you?” (Chase)
Her eyes meet mine and she smiles softly. “No. No running.”
“Good,” I say. “Because, regardless of my name, with this hard-on, I don’t think I could chase you.”
“I think this is what love must be like. That one person that’s always inside your head, running through your thoughts before you even realize you’re thinking about them. That person you like thinking about all the time because the image of her makes you smile. The one that has you counting time by how soon you can see her again. The one that makes you feel good just by sharing the same air. The only one you want to touch your fingertips to and relish the sensation of her skin against yours. To kiss. To really kiss—mouths, lips, tongues, teeth, breaths. Eyes closed and world blocked out.”
“Oh, joy. It’s going to be that kind of visit,” he says flatly. “Hold on. Let me gather all the fucks I give.” He pats his pockets and then his chest. “Okay, done,” he finishes, holding out empty palms. “What else do you want to complain about?”
“Nobody is perfect until you fall in love with them.”
“Love. It turns you into a murder planning lunatic with a penchant for stalking.”
“I want you to be sure I’m who you want. Because I’m not playing around here. I’m all in. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, and I’m at the point that I don’t really give a shit anymore. But I’m putting it out there so at least you understand how I feel.”
“I didn’t kiss you just then because I fucking care about you. I’ve cared about you for a long time. When I kiss you for the first time, it’s not going to be overpowered with grief and trepidation. And you aren’t going to jump when I touch you.” I bring my hand up, grazing it along her cheek. She trembles and I don’t know how to take that. “You can be pissed at me all you want—I’m used to it—as long as you understand that I wanted to kiss you. That it’s a struggle, even right now, to keep myself from tasting you. Shit, Annie. It’s always been a struggle with you. But I want your lips healed. Your heart whole. And I want you to be sure I’m who you want. Because I’m not playing around here. I’m all in. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, and I’m at the point that I don’t really give a shit anymore. But I’m putting it out there so at least you understand how I feel.” I push”
“Screw this love shit. I’m done. Love isn’t a cure-all. It’s a fucking disease.”
“That’s crazy, right? No, there’s crazy, there’s fucked up, and then there’s me. I’m all alone on this level of insanity.”
“Part of the training of a Special Circumstances agent was learning a) that the rules were supposed to be broken sometimes, b) just how to go about breaking the rules, and c) how to get away with it, whether the rule-breaking had led to a successful outcome or not.”
“Will I have to use a dictionary to read your book?" asked Mrs. Dodypol. "It depends," says I, "how much you used the dictionary before you read it.”
“He did not know what it was like to be two women in love.”
“everything is going to be okay, just not today.”
“Can’t you just be like the rest of us, normal and sad and fucked up and alive and remorseful?”
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