“Dave walked closer to me, his dark eyes combing my every move. "Do you always hold your guitar like that?"I dropped my pick. "Do you always shop at Hot Topic?”

“I love you so much, I think there are burn marks on my heart.” Blake touched his chest.“Do they hurt?”“Only when I’m not holding you.”“Hold me always then. I’m yours.”

“Holding my face with his hands, fingers buried deep in my hair, he stares down at me in the darkness. “It’s always been you, Tru. Always.”

“Is that your cheap way of telling me you want to kiss me?”He looks into my eyes, his dark gaze capturing mine. “Querida, I always want to kiss you.”

“i comb the crowd, and pick you out...my mouth moves too fast for you to figure it out..it starts eyes closed..to fingers crossed..to I swear I say..I swear i say..”

“I never thought of it like that. I always thought of you as a part of me, like my own eyes or my own hands. You don't go around thinking 'I love my eyes, I love my hands', do you? But think what it would be like to live without your eyes or your hands. To be mad, or to be blind. I can't talk about it. It's how I feel.”