“Hmmm, I bet you’d be really cute with hornays. Not that you’re not cute right now, but you’re a bit young. You’re only what? Four in human years? Oh wait, that’s wrong, isn’t it? You ninety? (Simi)”
“You’re really cute, Midori,” I corrected myself.“What do you mean really cute?”“So cute the mountains crumble and the oceans dry up.”
“What do you think is the problem? You’re a cute kid-‐uh, guy. Man. You’re a cuteman.”
“Why’s the faerie so obsessed with you anyway? You’re not that cute.”
“You’re a lot of things, Nell Hawthorne. You’re complex. You’re cute. You’re lovely. You’re funny. You’re strong. You’re beautiful.” She seems to be struggling with words and emotions. I keep going. “You’re tortured. You’re hurting. You’re amazing. You’re talented. You’re sexy as fuck.”
“You’re cute when you’re pissed. Kind of like a wet kitten. Gets me hard.”