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if it was my penchant to smother every real thing in humour until true emotion suffocated and died.
“Time’s got nothin’ on the depth of a wound,”
“Does anyone ever hafta say somethin’ nice about anyone? It’s not ’cause I feel you’re owed the words, Blue. It’s ’cause I feel moved to say them.”
Blue baby, you’re exactly the kinda trouble a man looks for his whole damn life. The kinda trouble I’d fight an entire fucked-in-the-head club for the chance to call my own. So you ever need me, you ever want me, you know where to find me. Never been a patient man, but I’ll be waitin’,
Mission accomplished. You can be angry with me any day if it means you’re happy the rest’a the time.
You only hafta ask me, and I’d burn down the fuckin’ world for you.”
“Monsters wear all kinds of labels—cops, bikers, politicians. I’ve found it’s how a person acts and not what they associate with that determines their goodness.
“Now in the dark, tomorrow in the light. Painted in neons or sunlight or starlight, you’re mine, Blue. You get me?”
“Even when death comes for us one day, I promise, I’ll be waitin’ for you on the other side,”
today you won a battle. Tomorrow we’ll worry about the war.
“You look so fuckin’ beautiful. Can’t wait to see what you look like tomorrow, next year, in a decade. Know you’ll just be more and more beautiful to me as I fall deeper in love with ya.”
