“When Fancy still didn't answer, he took her hand, and with his red paintbrush, he wrote 'please' into her palm.”

“Keeper!" He inhaled slowly, took Azalea's outstretched hand-shudders went through her throat, he felt so solid-and pressed the brooch into her marked palm."I was only picking it up," he said, quietly. His thumb rubbed the red nail mark on her hand. A smile crossed his lips. "Temper, temper.”

“He folded his fear into a perfect rose. He held it out in the palm of his hand. She took it from him and put it in her hair.”

“Fancy clipped a scrap of newsprint to her canvas and wrote, I don't have friends.Ilan's hand covered hers briefly as he plucked the charcoal from her hand and wrote beneath her words, you have me.”

“You asked me once what I see when I look into my future.” He slid his palm down her shoulder and took her hand. “I see you”

“He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. "You will come, won't you? Promisse!" he whispered.”