“No, Snow. I don’t have a death wish. I wish I did—it would make everything easier.” “Please stop talking like that.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then he turns to me, abruptly. “Is that why you kissed me? To keep me from killing myself?” I shake my head. “Not exactly. I mean, I did want to keep you from killing yourself.” “Why, then?” he asks. “Why did I kiss you?” “Yeah.” “I guess I wanted to,” I say, shrugging. “Since when?” I shrug again, and it pisses him off. He wedges another log into the fire. “Did you want me to?” I ask. “No,” he says. “Why would I want that? Why would
...more
