e to our cold,

ivering and drenched in sweat as wave

eping pills, lying to myself: If I

nduced haze,

, Silas was a rogue without a pack, dirt

ouple sitting by the window, the girl eating a delicate strawberry cake. It looked exqu

esh snow, molding it into shapes, and laughing as I looked up

ce love and deep shame. He pulled me tightly into

od outside my door holdi

d, handing out flyers in the human city for three days just to ea

ten, bleeding knuckles,

are meant for fighting, for leading, for achieving gr

't deserve someth

he most amazing woman in this world. You deserve e

passed that I couldn't even remember how it tasted. All

d my phone ring. I picked it up, and throug

ri

of the past. "Silas... it's snow

rolled over and let the da