I Like The Night. Without The Dark,

He Was Giving Up On Keeping Me Alive, Letting Nature–or Rather Mob Justice–take Its Course. When He Returned, And I Was Dead, He Wouldn't Hold Anyone Responsible. He Would Not Mourn. All This I Could Hear In Those Three Words.

So, Instead Of Panicking, I Closed My Eyes And Spent The Twenty Minutes' Drive With Edward. I Imagined That I Had Stayed At The Airport To Meet Edward. I Visualized How I Would Stand On My Toes, The Sooner To See His Face. How Quickly, How Gracefully He Would Move Through The Crowds Of People Separating Us. And Then I Would Run To Close Those Last Few Feet Between Us - Reckless As Always - And I Would Be In His Marble Arms, Finally Safe.

I, The Soul Called Wanderer, Love You, Human Ian. And That Will Never Change, No Matter What I Might Become.

Speaking Of Which, Would You Like To Explain To Me How You’re Alive

You Are My Life. You're The Only Thing It Would Hurt To Lose.