I'd thought that last night would have taken care of the flashbacks, the panic attacks - I was cured, right?
I reached up and grabbed a hand towel and wiped my wet face--and found that it just kept getting wet. I'd been so sure everything would be back to normal by now.
"It takes longer than a week to get over something like that..."
That first time you realize this...sucks.
I'd make sure he was sorry, I thought through the haze of pain. "I don't get mad I get even" was more of a credo than a cliche to me.
It was a neat, simple solution, and it didn't depend upon my being anything special. Ego, Bran liked to say, got in the way of truth more often than anything else.
Trouble was, it still didn't quite fit.
"Yes," Stefan told me. "Stay alive."
"You make me laugh," he told me seriously.