Now I see Leo truly; every tightly wound part of him, everything he carefully packed away. Leo Shaw is furious and angry and wild. He has been raised amongst monsters and he will do whatever is necessary to win. I should be scared; I’m not. I think I want him more than ever, if just for the impersonality of it—the roughness, the near-violence. He is angry at the world, and I am angry at myself, and when there’s no room for softness, it means I won’t lose myself to emotion.
