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you should change your Password" "not exactly a priority so I haven't got'round to it" "I'll do it for you"I offered. His arms gave me a squeeze and he grinned. "What'll you chose?" before I could stop my mouth from forming the words, I said "Shebitchfromhell666 ↗
Larson had been putting up a front like he wasn’t listening, but hearing that last statement from Owen made him speak up. “It’s not about that,” he asserted. “It has to be,” Owen disagreed. “How else am I supposed to define myself?” “Why do you have to have a definition? A label isn’t gonna make you feel any better about yourself or this situation. Stop trying to put yourself in one group or the other. It doesn’t matter.” “It matters to me!” Owen challenged. “My whole world has been flipped upside down thanks to you! Am I just supposed to sit back and accept that?” Larson was beginning to boil over with repugnance. “Yes! Because that’s what happens!” He was trying as hard a he could not to scream. “Things change and sometimes there’s nothing we can do about it. Life sucks. Deal with it! That’s what I’m doing. I’m not doing it in the best way, but I’m doing it. I’m dealing with that fact that you left me. ↗
Simon!" Clary shouted, and seized his arm. "What?" Simon looked alarmed. "I'm not really sleeping with your mom, you know. I was just trying to get your attention. Not that your mom isn't a very attractive woman, for her age. ↗
You may be the only guy my age I've ever met who knows what bergamot is, much less that it's in Earl Grey tea." "Yes, well," Jace said, with a supercilious look, "I'm not like other guys. Besides," he added, flipping a book off the shelf, "at the Institute we have to take classes in basic medicinal uses for plants. It's required." "I figured all your classes were stuff like Slaughter 101 and Beheading for Beginners." Jace flipped a page. "Very funny, Fray. ↗
Claire was just coming down the stairs, humming and thinking about how nice it was to have things getting back to normal, and how she'd tell Shane about the January thing tonight, when Myrnin sent a message through the portal. Well, more of a rock with a note tied to it, which rolled across the floor and scared Eve into a scream before the portal snapped shut. Eve kicked the rock resentfully with her thick black boots and glared at it, then at the wall. Claire gave her a "What the hell?" kind of look. "Your boss," Eve said, and reached down to grab the rock, "needs to figure out texting. Seriously. Who does this? Is he actually from the Stone Age? ↗
