Quit calling me Grey. It makes me sound like I’m a boy. Like Dorian Gray.”

“Dorian who?”

I sighed. “Just think up something else. Plain old Nora works too, you know.”

“Sure thing, Gumdrop.”

I grimaced. “I take that back. Let’s stick with Grey.

Los humanos son vulnerables porque son capaces de ser heridos

Hang on, did you just call me Angel?" I asked.
"If I did?"
"I don't like it."
He grinned. "It stays, Angel.

Only downside to your place is the disturbing low amount of extraneous toiletries. No conditioner? Lip gloss? Sunscreen?" I jerked my thumb toward the front door. "I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower."

He grinned, hopping off the bike. "Now that is an invitation.

If you can't feel, why did you kiss me?"
Patch traced a finger along my collarbone, then headed south stopping at my heart. I felt it pounding through my skin. "Because I feel it here, in my heart," he said quietly.

Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't.