Nora: This Is Crazy. Patch:

Deep, Dark Unearthly Black. I Hadn't Told Anyone Yet, But The Color Kept Streaking Across My Mind At The Oddest Moments. When It Did, My Skin Shivered Pleasantly, And It Was As If I Could Feel The Color Tracing A Finger Tenderly Along My Jaw, Tipping My Chin Up To Face It Directly. I Knew It Was Absurd To Think A Color Would Come To Life, But Once Or Twice, I Was Sure I'd Caught A Flash Of Something More Substantial Behind The Color. A Pair Of Eyes. The Way They Studied Me Cut To The Heart.

Your Mom Isn’t Going To Let Me Step Foot Inside This Place. I’ve Seen The Gun She Keeps On The Top Shelf Of The Pantry.

His Smile Was Sexy And Warned Of Trouble, But I'd Made Up My Mind That Not All Trouble Was Bad.

I Wrinkled My Nose, Trying To Figure Out What He Smelled Like. Not Cigarettes. Something Richer, Fouler. Cigars.

Call Me Patch. I Mean It. Call Me.