“He wanted to laugh. Only, the sound wouldn't come out. He couldn't summon even a wry humor, not anymore. Light! I can't keep this up. My eyes see as if in a fog, my hand is burned away, and the old wounds in my side rip open if I do anything more strenuous than breathe. I'm dry, like an overused well. I need to finish my work here and get to Shayol Ghul.Otherwise, there won't be anything left of me for the Dark One to kill.That wasn't a thought to cause laughter; it was one to cause despair. But Rand did not weep, for tears could not come from steel.For the moment, Lews Therin's cries seemed enough for both of them.”
“I can’t help it: I laugh.I don’t mean too, it just kinda comes out on its own. I smoosh my hands against my mouth to block the sound, but this causes me to snort, and snot comes out of my nose. I try to cover it up and jerk my left hand up, but it bounces off my nose and I poke myself in the eye. My eyes water as I hiss and knuckle my eyeball, but I’ve still got snot on my hand and gets all up in there, making it burn even more. Ow. I want to turn and run, but I’m temporarily blinded by my own devices and I know, I just know, that this big kid is probably some popular jock and I am forever going to be stuck with the nick-name Booger Eye Snot Face. I ask God quietly if he wouldn’t mind opening the ground beneath my feet and allow me to fall down a chasm to save me from myself. The ground doesn’t open. I’m still laughing, but it’s that high-pitched thing I do when I find something really funny. I hate that laugh. It always sounds like a clan of female hyenas all going into labor at the same time. Yip! Yip! Ayyyyyyyy! Yip! Yip! Ayyyyyyyy”
“But the burning man falling from the sky pulled me from my faraway world. My gaze wandered to the window an instant before he appeared. And then, slowly, like a feather caught on a light breeze, he willowed past my window, turning his grotesque head towards me, his mouth open in a silent scream. He was more than on fire. He was fire.Orange and red flames braided together in the shape of a man, but it was his eyes that caused me to suck in my breath and hold it as I ran to the window. His eyes, scared and imploring, told of a darkness and agony I couldn't begin to understand.”
“I lean across his body and lift his hand for inspection. As i run my fingertips over his broken skin, careful not to cause more pain, I say "I meant you blowfish. Your bones." His hand trembles a little in mine. Somehow that rattles me more then anything else. I could deal with losing my fantasy Brody more then i can face a very real, trembling Quince. "No," He whispers. "I pulled my punches." Then, with some of his usual humor, he adds, "Principal Brown already thinks I'm one step away from juvie. Don't need to put myself there." I look up ready to argue, when a lumpy spot in his heather gray t-shirt catches my eye. Lifting my fingers to the place just beneath his collarbone, I'm both surprised and not to feel a sand-dollar shaped object. My gaze continues the journey up to his. "Your still wearing it." We both know it's not a question, just like we both seem to have lost the ability to breathe. A whole sea of emotions washes though his eyes-fear,anger, pain, trust, love. Love. It's when i see that last one that i close my eyes. He whispers, "Always.”
“I wanted to turn away but I was trapped in that spot--in that moment--by those moon eyes. Because even though I couldn't see them, I could feel them looking at me and they burned me so badly that my legs didn't work.”
“I'm not sure of anything," he admitted."But I didn't mean to freak you out before. I just can't seem to keep my hands off you. I don't want to keep my hands off you."~Wyatt”