Funny thing about glass. When you broke the shit up, it got pissed and bit back.
Maybe that's how it starts. You stumble upon something that helps you cope, fills a void. Makes you feel something different than what you currently feel. You know in the long run it probably won't be good for you, but you do it anyway. Tell yourself...
In his old life, the answer would have been easy: He'd have just put a gun to Vin's head and dragged the fucker to the altar. Now? He needed to be a little more civilized.
I’m not perfect. And I don’t have to be. I can figure it out as I go, and as long as I do the best I can, it’s okay if I still screw up.
It felt odd to realize she was frightened more by what he might know, and not of what he might be.
Time keeps on... slippin'... slippin'... slippin' into the future.
