Amy A. Bartol

“...I have never seen him smile like that—it’s intoxicating, especially because I never thought he would smile like that at me.”

“I don’t want you going there without me, ever…do you understand what I am saying?” he asks me, searching my face, probably looking for any sign of dissention.“Let me get this straight, what if I got a craving for…I don’t know…Twinkies in the wee hours of the morning and all that was open was the Seven-Eleven. You’re saying I should wake you up, even if you’re crashed out, just so that you can go with me on a treat run?” I ask skeptically, trying to gauge his level of commitment to this course of action.“Genevieve, Twinkies are really bad for you, but if you had to have one, then yes, that’s what I’m saying,” he smiles at my scenario. “Do you really like those things?”“I’m not going to tell you if you’re going to tease me, but I will say that it’s suspiciously inhuman not to enjoy a Hostess snack from time to time,” I reply coyly. “I’ll buy you one. You’ll love it, I promise.”And I’ll be doing the world a favor at the same time, I think, remembering him without his shirt on.”

“You are afraid of me?” Reed asks me, sounding unpleasantly surprised.“Of course I’m afraid of you. You’re menacing, you’re overbearing, you’re arrogant, and if you don’t see that, then you can just add high to the list,” I say, using my fingers to tick off his shortcomings.”

“He isn't wearing a shirt.... He shouldn't just walk around like that; it's obscene to have to look at someone so perfect. He should do the world a favor and eat a donut or two.”

“You have made no secret of the fact that you hate me.”His eyes soften again. “Hate you?” he asks. “Not as much as you might think. And then there is the…what was it…butterflies? That can’t be a bad thing, can it?”

“No one is protecting you. You are all alone, aren’t you?” he asks while he lets my elbow drop from his hand.I can no longer see his face clearly because my tears are making it impossible, but unfortunately for him, I’ve found what I’ve been searching for in my bag. “I don’t need anyone to protect me when I have this!” I say in a desperate tone.Pushing the Taser into his side, I release the safety and pull the trigger. The hot, kinetic sizzle of electricity snarls through the gun and into his torso, but Reed doesn’t fall down and start twitching like in the demonstration video. Instead, his eyebrows shoot up in an expression somewhere between disbelief and amazement as he asks, “Are you serious?”

“...you have to get rid of my wings!" I plead"But, I like your wings," he says, smiling sweetly while stroking them again.I swear, if he keeps doing that I might purr like a kitten”