“What were you supposed to do?" he asks in an amused voice."Save you. Only I wasn't actually supposed to do that, was I?""That's the hardest part," he says. " The absence of certainty.”

“That's the hardest part," he says. "The absence of certainty.”

“What do you see in a guy like Christian Prescott?" he asked me that night when he dropped me off from prom. And what he was really saying then, what would have come through loud and clear if I hadn't been so blind was, why don't you see me?”

“You like me, Clara, he says. "I know you do.”

“So did you really mean all that stuff you said when I was a dead man?""Every word.""Could you say it again?" he asks. "My memory's a little fuzzy.""Which part?" The part where I said I wanted to stay with you forever?""Yeah," he murmurs, his face close to mine, his breath hot on my cheek."When I said that I love you?"He pulls back a little, searches my eyes with his. "Yes. Say it.""I love you."He takes a deep, happy breath. "I love you," he says back. "I love you, Clara."Then his gaze drops to my lips again, and he leans in, and the rest of the world simply goes away.”

“Angela says that angel-bloods are supposed to be immune to cold. It helps with the flying at high altitudes, I guess." I shiver again. "I must not have gotten the memo." He smiles. "Maybe that power only applies to mature angel-bloods." "Hey, are you calling me immature?" "Oh no," he says, his smile blossoming into a full-blown grin. "I wouldn't dare." "Good. Because I'm not the one peeping into someone else's window.”

“How's happiness class going, by the way?""Okay, so far.""Are you feeling happy?" he asks with the hint of a smirk.I shrug. "The professor says that happiness is wanting what you have."Christian makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "I see. Happiness is wanting what you have. Well, there you go. So what's the problem, then?""What do you mean?""Why is the class only okay?""Oh." I bit my lip, then confess. "Every time I meditate, I start glowing.”