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The twenty-five-year-old nincompoop whose magic mostly worked on dead people?
I hated losing arguments to hormonal teenagers who thought they knew everything. But she did have a point.
And I certainly wasn’t hung up on his core tightening appearance, his incredible charm, and his awe-inspiring strength and power. I would show him that none of those things fazed me, and I was in it for the job. End of story.
“You’re bigger, getting stronger every day, and a guy. Of course I fight dirty, you donkey. If I didn’t, you’d wipe the floor with me. Do you think enemies are all a lovely bunch of fluffy unicorns who care about rules? The real world is a shitty place, Mordecai. A real shitty place. There is no place for morals when you’re fighting for your life, there is only staying alive.”
“That was a good backhanded compliment, Zorn. On a related note, you don’t have many friends, do you?”
Yes, she did stand out. In a sea of similar people, she was absurdly different. And he fucking loved it.
Sometimes when people talk, I accidentally stop listening. My mind is a more interesting place to be.”
“This kid is my spirit animal.”
We can egg his car like we were planning that one time, and maybe try to get something of his so we can burn it on his lawn. Other than that, it’s probably a good thing.” “Yup.” Daisy pointed at him righteously. “Burn his motherfucking shit. Burn it. No one messes with my girl and gets away with it.” Bria leaned against the table, looking at Mordecai again. “I half take it back. I might like you after all.”
