Because I’m the ice that chills the fury in his veins. The one who let him sneak into my window when his parents were home. I’m the one who showed him how to bandage his wounds. I’m the person who let him sleep on my floor, the person who stayed awake until he fell asleep. I didn’t do it because I cared. I did it because he needed it. I’m always handling the things they need but don’t have the guts to do for themselves. Alistair’s rage, Rook’s pain, and Silas’s demons. I’m his—he knows it—just as much as he is mine, but the difference? I don’t need him. I don’t need any of them.
