“You talk about the world like you’re looking through a kaleidoscope. You see something you hate, truly despise, and with one twist of your wrist or a couple beats of your heart you’ve suddenly turned it into something explainable and beautiful and worthy of being understood.”
“And how do you see the world?”
“Stained.”
“And yourself?”
“Stained.”
“Ah.”
“I’ve seen horrible things.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been horrible things.”
“As have I.”
“Says the girl who can’t keep from smiling at a stranger.”
“Also true.”
“So, answer me.”
“It’s quite simple, really. Though I see the world, and I do see it, I don’t belong to it. I don’t own it, nor am I trying to. Ignorance or, in my case, innocence. Far from intelligence. Maybe so, but I like to think every rebel has their reasons.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“Yet, you’ll still kiss me goodnight.”
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