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You flirted with the other guys simply for the sake of flirting. You flirted with Jesse in the hopes of getting semi-naked with him. He was a royal Moroi, and he was so hot, he should have worn a WARNING: FLAMMABLE sign.
I had a standing arrangement with God: I’d agree to believe in him—barely—so long as he let me sleep in on Sundays.
How come all the harmless people were so lame? Maybe that was the definition of safe.
