That's what I came back to tell you. I loved you before I met you, and I loved you more the moment I held you. And I never meant to leave you so soon.
I never would have left you.
Simon, Simon.
My rosebud boy.

Is it too much?"
"No. It's like you completed the circuit," I say, gripping his other hand. "I feel kind of drunk, though."
"Drunk on power?" he asks.
I giggle. "Shit, Snow. Stop talking. This is embarrassing.

Does it have to be fatal every time? The biting? Couldn't you just drink some of a person's blood, then walk away?"
"I can't believe you're asking me this, Snow. You, who can't walk away from half a sandwich.

Tall. Black hair swept back from his forehead. Lips curled up in a sneer... I know that face as well as my own.

And sometimes holes want to get bigger, but Baz was wrong—sometimes they just want to be filled.

What do you want from me, Snow?"
"Nothing," he says. And he means it, the actual bastard.