“My best advice is to be yourself. Unless you’re psychotic, then you might want to try a different tactic.”

“You'll be really sorry of you try to bypass all the detours. You don't want to get to your destination and not remember anything about the trip.”

“I just called to tell you good night. Get some sleep, Theia. Tomorrow is a big day.”“I would sleep much better if you were here.” As soon as the words spilled out of my mouth,I wanted to die of embarrassment. Haden and I were close, but we hadn’t gotten that close yet. “I mean . . . it’s just that when you’re near I’m not as agitated. Not that I want to sleep with you.” I needed to stop talking—I was making it worse.“You don’t?” He was teasing now. “Now you’ve hurt my male pride.”

“I don’t understand.” Except, truthfully, I just didn’t want to understand.Pain shadowed across his face. “Darkness lives in me, Theia. Inside of me. Like a sickness. And right next to it, intertwined with it, are my feelings for you. If I act on one, I’ll act on the other. The darkness in me wants you the way a black hole eats stars. I dream of tasting you, devouring you.” His eyes darkened terribly. “Haden, stop trying to frighten me.” He carried on as if he hadn’t heard me. “This isn’t a crush; it’s an obsession. You are never not in my thoughts. Your scent carries across a room and paralyzes me with longing. I don’t want to hold your hand. Part of me wants to set you on fire and hold you while the flame consumes us both, to eat your heart so I know that only I possess it entirely. Are you scared now? Does your human mind comprehend the danger at last? I’m not like you. I’m not human, not completely anyway.”

“This isn't a crush, it's obsession.You are never not in my thoughts. Your scent carries across a room and paralyzes me with longing. I don't want to hold your hand. Part of me wants to set you on fire and hold you while the flame consumes us both, to eat your heart so I know that only I possess it entirely.”

“Who was your first kiss?” Heat rushed into my face. I flattered myself by thinking maybe he wanted to kiss me. I wished he wanted to kiss me. “I haven’t …” Squeezing my eyes closed, I began again. “I haven’t been kissed. Yet.” “Why?” I rolled my eyes at his innocence. “You obviously know I’m not like other girls. I’m shy and I don’t spend time with boys. My father is strict and—” “That’s not why.” He thought he knew me so well.“Fine. You tell me why I haven’t been kissed.” I regretted the words and my tone instantly. What if he told me what I already knew? That I was lacking. Not interesting or pretty enough. “You were waiting.”

“I went home that day, and I wrote your name over and over on a piece of paper. I must have written it a hundred times. My mom found the paper a few days later in my sock drawer. She wanted to know why I'd done that..."I wanted to know why more than anything I'd ever remembered wanting, but a part of me hoped he'd chicken out."I told her I liked the way your name made my heart jump.”