'It means a lot that you didn’t act like you see me differently now.'
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as the wind whips it across my face. 'I don’t see you differently. I see you better.'
Wrong is right and right is wrong.
I foresee war—merry or misery, brief or long?
A mountain looms built on deception.
Surmount it and then learn your lesson.
'I don’t know how lovely having my head in the clouds is when it means I trip while walking.'
'That’s why I’m here,' he says. 'To catch you. […]'