“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone? (Shahara)Think up ways to kill me while I sleep. (Syn)”

“What now? (Shahara)I’m thinking. (Syn)Could you think a little quicker? (Shahara)You’re not helping. (Syn)You’re lucky you’re still breathing and not limping. (Shahara)”

“Shut up. Asshole. (Shahara)I live for your endearments. (Syn)”

“You do know I am my father’s son, right? People don’t talk to me that way and live. (Syn)Oh, like I fear you. Never. Besides, a fight might dislodge whatever has crawled up your sphincter and bring back the much nicer version of you. (Shahara)”

“Thank you, Shay. (Syn)For what? (Shahara)For looking into the eyes of nothing and seeing a man you could love. (Syn)”

“The dead won’t hurt you, Shahara. Only the living can do that. (Syn)”

“Save me, Shahara. Save me from the lonely nights that never end. (Syn)”