He pointed to himself. "Male and eighteen. What's your point?”
“But that quickly faded, and he frowned. "You're bleeding," he said. "What happened?"
Claire sighed and held up her wrist to show him the bandage. "Man, you would be so embarrassed if I said it was something else." Michael looked blank. "I'm a girl, Michael, it could have been all natural, you know. Tampons?”
“Eve: She told me last!
Eve: Crap. Right. Next time you sell your soul to the devil, I get first contact!”
“If you ask me if I'm okay again, I'm going to smack myself in the face just to punish you.”
“You shouldn't be afraid of me because I'm a vampire. You ought to be scared because you just trash-talked my girlfriend to her face.--Michael”
“Oliver: You turned me down. So why, I wonder, did you decide Amelie would be a better choice?
Claire: She smells better. And she made me cookies.”
“Where's your sense of adventure?"
"Off on a beach somewhere with your sanity?”
“I like the sound of that, crashing Monica's party," he glanced at Michael, then quickly away. "What about you? That break some kind of vampire rules or something?"
"Blow me Shane."
"Boys," Eve said primly. "Language. Minor at the table."
"Well," Shane said, "I wasn't actually planning to do it."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Not like it's the first time I've heard it. Or said it."
"You shouldnt say it," Michael said, all seriousness. "No, I mean it. Girls should say 'eat me' not 'blow me'. Wouldn't recommend 'bite me' though. Not around here.”
“Parents had some kind of sin radar, Claire thought. They always called when you were in the middle of something you just knew they'd consider wrong. Or at least risky.”
“You know what we call pedestrians in Morganville? Mobile bloodbanks.”
“Oh -- who's the Queen?"
"Her, of course. The White Queen. You're just like Alice, you know. Down the rabbit hole with the Mad Hatter.”
“He broke the kiss and leaned against her, breathing hard. "Good morning to you, too. Man, I just can't stay mad when you do that.”
“Monica's eyes were fierce and fiery, but she didn't move, and after a second she turned and ran up the steps to the second floor, where her formally dressed friends were huddled like the cast of Survivor: Abercrombie & Fitch Island.”
“And about Shane, I swear, if he doesn't snap out of it, I'm going to punch him in the face. Well, punch him in the face and then run like hell."
- Eve Rosser”
“Besides," Shane said "I want to see Monica's face
when she catches sight of the two of you. Kodak moment.”
“Girl, it's an umbrella, not a Lamborghini,”
“You were leaving, and you didn't even know if I was okay.”
“And somewhere in heaven, Versace sheds a single, perfect tear.”
“Trav, if you cross us -- "
"I know. You'll get me. I'll try not to pee all over myself in terror.”
“She smells better," Claire said. "And she made me cookies.”
“Science is a method, not a religion, yet it can be just as close-minded. Open minds here Claire. Always open minds. Question everything, accept nothing as fact until you prove it for yourself.”
“How you going to stop me, cupcake? Hit me with your book bag?"
"If I have to.”
“Give the girl some credit. At least she told you, instead of letting you figure it out on your own."
"Yeah, and she told me last!" Eve glared at the two boys, hands on her hips.
"Boyfriend," Shane said, holding up his hand.
"Landlord," Michael chimed in.
"Crap," Eve sighed. "I guess that does leave me in last place.”
“Home," he repeated. "Home is where the heart is. Why don't you leave yours here? I'll take very good care of it.”
“I'm more worried about you," she said. "You and trouble..."
"yeah." She heard the smile in his voice. "We're like that.”
“His gaze brushed over her, abstract and hungry. "You burn so very brightly, you know"
"Yeah," she muttered. "You said.”
“Shane groaned. "Yo, Drama Princess, want to tone it down a little? Somewhere, Sandra Bernhardt wants her tantrum back.”
“Claire sighed. She supposed people always did like that sort of girl, and always would. And secretly? She envied Monica's confidence. Maybe just a little, traitorous bit.”
“She's nice when it suits her. That doesn't mean she's nice.”
“It's called being polite; they probably didn't teach you that at home. Doesn't mean I like you or anything.”
“A merrier baby than he had never been seen. Everything he glimpsed around him roused his interest and stirred him to joy. He looked with delight at the threads of rain outside the window, as if they were confetti and multicolored streamers. And if, as happens, the sunlight reached the ceiling indirectly and cast the shadows of the street's morning bustle, he would stare as it fascinated, refusing to abandon it, as if he were watching an extraordinary display of Chinese acrobats, given especially or him. You would have said, to tell the truth, from his laughter, from the constant brightening of his little face, that he didn't see things only in their usual aspects, but as multiple images of other things, varying to infinity. Otherwise, there was no explaining why the wretched, monotonous scene the house offered every day could afford him such diverse, inexhaustible amusement.”
“Sometimes you have to trust grownups, perhaps more so when they are not there to actually supervise you.”
“It was an article of faith to the Romans that they were the most morally upright people in the world. How else was the size of their empire to be explained? Yet they also knew that the Republic's greatness carried its own risks. To abuse it would be to court divine anger. Hence the Roman's concern to refute all charges of bullying, and to insist they had won their empire purely in self-defense.”
“He stills, and our eyes lock, his narrowing, holding mine captive. “Run to me, not from me.”
“And then an endless instant later Arthur was kissing him back, like this was perfectly normal, like this was exactly what Arthur had been hoping for most in all the world, his large hands closing over Merlin's shoulders and sliding down over his back, strong and warm even through the fabric of his sweater, one hand pausing on his waist and the other sliding around to cup his arse and pull him in closer. Merlin made a surprised, enthusiastic sound and stopped holding back; let himself cling to Arthur and kiss him more fiercely; and then they were kissing like it was their last day on earth and they had to cram every possible moment of passion into this tiny slice of time, hands clutching at fabric, mouths pressing hungry bites onto bare skin as if they would somehow devour one another, trying to touch and taste everything at once, frantic and needy and bursting with urgent desire and the inescapable knowledge that this was finite, was stolen, was not supposed to be.”
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