It would be more… prudent for you not to be my friend. But I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella.

When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.

I wanted to close that little distance, to reach out and touch him, but I was afraid he wouldn’t like me to.

Don’t be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So… try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right?

His voice was like melting honey. I could imagine how much more overwhelming his eyes would be.

He turned to look at me with a wistful expression. The golden eyes held mine, and I lost my train of thought. I stared at him until he looked away.

What if I’m not a superhero? What if I’m the bad guy?

To me, it was like you were some kind of demon, summoned straight from my own personal hell to ruin me.

Our relationship couldn’t continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending entirely upon his decision, or his instincts. My decision was made, made before I’d ever consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing it through. Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from him. It was an impossibility.

I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don’t exist, not irritating me to death.