Nox Quotes

Rocks in my path? I keep them all. With them I shall build my castle.

Nox didn’t say a word. He waited, counting the seconds in his mind. Sometimes you counted bullets and sometimes you counted time. Either one could kill you.

The silence just allowed the echoes of the question to play out in Nox’s mind, reminding him of his own unwinnable war against the never-ending tide of conmen and criminals. He was trying to clean up these parts, but every time he rubbed away a stain, he found another layer of dirt beneath. So, you could give up—or you could keep on scrubbing.

Owe ye everything, son. Ye need or want anything, ye just ask." Nox earns a point in my dad's book when he utters, "I'm quite partial to your daughter, actually. I was kinda hoping I could keep her.

Standing face to face with a still pissed Nox, I find myself getting pissed, too. Nox just has that effect on me. I swear this guy must’ve been conceived through back door action. There’s no way being that much of an asshole is natural.

I don’t utter a word of complaint, because let’s face it, Nox doesn’t seem like a giver of fucks.

You know how when a guy and girl really like each other in a book, they talk about a spark between them? With Nox there is no spark. No. He bypassed the spark. When Nox touches me, there’s nothing less than the whistling, shrieking explosions of fireworks. Big ones. The ones they save till the end of the show.

You know exactly what I mean. That girl has more cracks in her than the road of yellow brick. Nox will break her in two.” “Or she’ll break him.

soles occidere et redire possunt: nobis cum semel occidit breuis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda.

et iam nox umida caelo praecipitat suadentque cadentia sidera somnos

For you to have gotten here so fast, you’d have needed to fly,” he said to the messenger. “This must have been written before the battle even started this morning.” The messenger smirked. “I was handed two letters. One was for victory, the other defeat.” Bold—this messenger was bold, and arrogant, for someone at Darrow’s beck and call. “What’s your name?” “Nox Owen.” The messenger bowed at the waist. “From Perranth.

Does your scar hurt? HARRY: No. No. I’m fine. Now, Nox that and let’s get some sleep. GINNY: Harry. How long has it been since your scar hurt? HARRY turns to GINNY, his face says it all. HARRY: Twenty-two years.

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus, rumoresque senum severiorum omnes unius aestimemus assis! soles occidere et redire possunt; nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda. da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum; dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus, aut ne quis malus invidere possit cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

Nox and Celaena remained by the table. His eyes were wide. “You were a slave in Endovier?” She couldn’t form the words to confirm it. Nox was too smart for his own good. “But you’re barely a woman—what did you do to . . .” His gaze fell on Chaol, and the guards who stood near him. “Would I have heard your name before? Would I have heard that you were shipped to Endovier?” “Yes. Everyone heard when I went,” she breathed, and watched as he sorted through every name he’d ever heard associated with the place, then put the pieces together. He took a step back. “You’re a girl?” “Surprising, I know. Everyone thinks I’m older.

Nox atra cava circumvolat umbra

It is when you are asking about something that you realize you yourself have survived it, and so you must carry it, or fashion it into a thing that carries itself.

Now that I’m a little more awake, I realize someone is breathing into my neck and wriggling closer to me. Deeper into my butt. When I near Nox whine in his sleep, my eyes widen. I ask my brain, “Is that what I think it is?” My drooling brain replies, “It’s early, we have a hard-on pressed against our ass, and a delicious man in our bed. I’m out.” Then it disconnects.

Prowling the meanings of a word, prowling the history of a person, no use expecting a flood of light. Human words have no main switch. But all those little kidnaps in the dark. And then the luminous, big, shivering, discandied, unrepentant, barking web of them that hangs in your mind when you turn back to the page you were trying to translate...

Nox blinks. "Are you flirting with me?" I roll my eyes. "I'm threatening to kill you." A lazy smile spreads across his lips. "Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference with you.

Nox Owen.” The messenger bowed at the waist. “From Perranth.

No,” she said suddenly. “It’s not a cage, Nox.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Love is an open door.

una duos nox perdet amantes. one night loses two lovers.

Killian Nox loved me like I was priceless and fucked me like I was unbreakable.

You have rules to learn and penalties to experience" - Nox

Do you ever think about the words that come from your mouth before you speak them?” Vyr asked Nox. “No. Why would I do that?

The sky was so heartless and dark, and her body, her head, and particularly those damned thirsty trousers, felt clogged with Oceanus Nox, n,o,x. At every slap and splash of cold wild salt, she heaved with anise-flavored nausea and there was an increasing number, okay, or numbness in her neck and arms. As she began losing track of herself, she thought it proper to inform a series of receding Lucettes -- telling them to pass it on and on in a trick-crystal regression -- that what death amounted to was only a more complete assortment of the infinite fractions of solitude.

Note that the word 'mute' is regarded by linguists as an onomatopoeic formation referring not to silence but to a certain fundamental opacity of human being, which likes to show the truth by allowing to be seen hiding.

I have never known a closeness like that (…) I guess it never ends. A brother never ends. I prowl him. He does not end.

Some men claimed that saying things made them true. Well, many men who said they were rich still died poor. Nox said he was cool, but that sun showed him he was a liar.

Ponto nox incubat atra.

We've been chatting about our men and wedding stuff. Terah says, "God, sometimes I look at Jon and think 'how the Hell did I manage to get you?' We're so lucky." Mom adds, "They are very handsome." Terah and I scoff. Shaking my head, I say, "Handsome is something. And Nox is handsome most times. But, by God, he is hot. Hotter than Hell, Mom. I never thought I could love someone so much. I can hardly keep my hands off him." Mom chastises on a gasp, "Lily! That's inappropriate! You're a lady and ladies do not speak that way." Terah chuckles, "Screw being a lady. I love my special cuddle time with Jon." Mom covers her ears, but barks out an embarrassed laugh, "I cannot hear this! You girls can clean the rest up while I powder my nose." Terah and I chuckle, watching her leave.

The word ‘equinox’ simply means ‘of equal length’ and refers to the twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness at this point in the year. It was originally thought to stem from two Latin words aequus meaning equal and nox meaning night. The word ‘Vernal’, as this equinox is often called, is derived from the Latin word vernus meaning ‘of spring’.

Here are the essentials of a happy life, my dear friend: money not worked for, but inherited; some land not unproductive; a hearth fire always going; law suits never; the toga rarely worn; a calm mind; a gentleman’s strong and healthy body; circumspect candor, friends who are your equals; relaxed dinner parties, a simple table, nights not drunken, but free from anxieties; a marriage bed not prudish, and yet modest; plenty of sleep to make the dark hours short. Wish to be what you are, and prefer nothing more. Don’t fear your last day, or hope for it either. Translated from original text: Vitam quae faciant beatiorem, Iucundissime Martialis, haec sunt: Res non parta labore, sed relicta; Non ingratus ager, focus perennis; Lis numquam, toga rara, mens quieta; Vires ingenuae, salubre corpus; Prudens simplicitas, pares amici; Convictus facilis, sine arte mensa; Nox non ebria, sed soluta curis; Non tristis torus, et tamen pudicus; Somnus, qui faciat breves tenebras: Quod sis, esse velis nihilque malis; Summum nec metuas diem nec optes.

Repent means "the pain again.

Some criminals said fighting Nox was like fighting ghosts. He seemed to come from everywhere. Most criminals who fought Nox never said anything at all.

My name is Magdalene Nox. I am the new Headmistress of Three Dragons. And you are all fired.

It only occurs to me as Gabe and Atlas each flank either side of me that Nox had put himself between the other Bond Group and I.

You're lucky," he says as I approach. "A lot of girls would love to keep my hair in a locket close to their hearts." I raise my eyebrows. "How unfortunate for them to have lost their minds so young." Nox's lips curve upward. "I am known to drive women crazy." I roll my eyes.

A hand slowly wraps around the top of my arm and draws me up until I'm standing with my side pressed against Nox’s as he sends through the mind connection, Burn it all to the ground, Oleander. Burn it, and let's be done with it.

Rash decisions will more often than not, result in the demise of the chances you could have had with a situation; now foregone.

I'm being serious." "You're always serious, it's a real personality flaw.

You're unbelievable." "You say that a lot. I might just start taking it as a compliment.

You know," I say, clearing my throat, "When Leo told you to hold onto something, he didn't mean me." Selestra's eyes widen and she pushes me away.

While dragging herself up she had to hang onto the rail. Her twisted progress was that of a cripple. Once on the open deck she felt the solid impact of the black night, and the mobility of the accidental home she was about to leave. Although Lucette had never died before—no, dived before, Violet—from such a height, in such a disorder of shadows and snaking reflections, she went with hardly a splash through the wave that humped to welcome her. That perfect end was spoiled by her instinctively surfacing in an immediate sweep — instead of surrendering under water to her drugged lassitude as she had planned to do on her last night ashore if it ever did come to this. The silly girl had not rehearsed the technique of suicide as, say, free-fall parachutists do every day in the element of another chapter. Owing to the tumultuous swell and her not being sure which way to peer through the spray and the darkness and her own tentaclinging hair—t,a,c,l—she could not make out the lights of the liner, an easily imagined many-eyed bulk mightily receding in heartless triumph. Now I’ve lost my next note. Got it. The sky was also heartless and dark, and her body, her head,and particularly those damned thirsty trousers, felt clogged with Oceanus Nox, n,o,x. At every slap and splash of cold wild salt, she heaved with anise-flavored nausea and there was an increasing number, okay, or numbness, in her neck and arms. As she began losing track of herself, she thought it proper to inform a series of receding Lucettes—telling them to pass it on and on in a trick-crystal regression—that what death amounted to was only a more complete assortment of the infinite fractions of solitude. She did not see her whole life flash before her as we all were afraid she might have done; the red rubber of a favorite doll remained safely decomposed among the myosotes of an un-analyzable brook; but she did see a few odds and ends as she swam like a dilettante Tobakoff in a circle of brief panic and merciful torpor. She saw a pair of new vairfurred bedroom slippers, which Brigitte had forgotten to pack; she saw Van wiping his mouth before answering, and then, still withholding the answer, throwing his napkin on the table as they both got up; and she saw a girl with long black hair quickly bend in passing to clap her hands over a dackel in a half-tom wreath. A brilliantly illumined motorboat was launched from the not-too-distant ship with Van and the swimming coach and the oilskin-hooded Toby among the would-be saviors; but by that time a lot of sea had rolled by and Lucette was too tired to wait. Then the night was filled with the rattle of an old but still strong helicopter. Its diligent beam could spot only the dark head of Van, who, having been propelled out of the boat when it shied from its own sudden shadow, kept bobbing and bawling the drowned girl’s name in the black, foam-veined, complicated waters.

Is this code for you need emergency sex?” Nox asked in the most serious tone Torren had ever heard. “Because if so, we need to work on a code word or something. You’re confusing me. And my dick.” Nox looked at his lap and stuck out his lower lip. “My dick is confused.

I’ll be fine.” Gryphon pulls back to stare down at me and scoffs a little. “You won't be fine. I'm not fine. North isn't fine, and in a shocking turn of events, Nox is not fine, though I think he enjoys finding ways to horrify and enrage my father more than the last time that he had to be around him

Do a lot of internet groups meet up at conventions?” “Sure.” “How about your Starfield peeps? The online ones you talk to?” “Oh—well, yeah. A few of them are here.” We break apart for a moment as an elf with a scythe squeezes between us. “Anyway, we should get to the costume contest area and sign in, what do you say? And try not to run into the twins.” “If we do I’ll shove them in a closet,” Sage mutters. I laugh. “Ready to kick some Nox butt?” She scoffs. “Elle, I’m ready to tell them to get down on both knees and call you Queen.” “I thought you were going somewhere completely different with that.” “Eh, this is a PG sort of moment.” “Fair enough.

Knew it.” The Nox King looks way too happy. “There’s no way you could’ve made that.” “Oh?” I cock my head. “And why’s that?” “Chill out, I’m not trying to be offensive.” He laughs. There’s a spot of black lipstick on his teeth, but I’m not about to tell him. “You just dressed up to get some attention and hey, it worked—” “Excuse you.” I jump to my feet. “Starfield is one of my favorite shows of all time and—” “You don’t have to try and explain yourself to me, okay? Fake geek girls like you always win.

Princess Amara , Euci , and even the Nox King — they were my friends when everyone in the real world passed around rumors behind my back , called me weird , shoved me into lockers , and baited me into thinking I was beautiful only to push me away just before we kissed . They never abandoned me . They were loyal , honorable , caring , and smart .

Scars aren't a bad thing. They show that you've lived, and who wants to live without dying?

Ben looked at his compatriots, just a quick glance to and fro, but it was enough for Nox to see that they'd made their bets. They were putting it all on red.

Vertitur interea caelum et ruit oceano nox, inuoluens umbra magna terramque polumque.

Vertitur interea caelum et ruit oceano nox, involvens umbra magna terramque polumque Myrmidonumque dolos;

Orion turned his back on him, pointing at Gabriel. “I didn’t catch your name.” “Gabriel Nox,” he said, smiling. Actually fucking smiling.

It's there that I find, as faint as butterfly wings against the wind, Nox’s soul.

Because like you said, trauma is hard, and you don’t get much more traumatized than Nox Draven.

Nox cuts me off. “Leave it, brother. She’s still just a pathetic little child who runs away the second it gets hard.

Nox just stares back at him. “No.” When Atlas glares back at him, Nox smirks, his eyes and the skin of his neck slowly turning black. “If you want her, come and get her.

There was no division between her and Nox, just a harmony that sang through her marrow.

You’re a terrible woman Nox, but by the stars I love you beyond words themselves,

They were shooting far, and their accuracy suffered, but Nox didn't exactly have a lot of places to dance through the bullets. They came in number, like rain. You couldn't afford to get wet.

Shay picked that moment to walk back to the car. Thank God. Now we could leave, and I could get away from Nox and home to the beautiful Salvatore brothers. Shoot—were they Elven, too? Probably.

Then, if you want, we can bring her back to New York and keep her safe. If she means that much to you, she means that much to me.” My head continued to move from side to side. “Who the fuck are you?” Nox leaned close, his cologne clouding my thoughts. “I’m Batman, princess. Next time you want to fly across the country, tell me. I won’t delay two hundred people’s plans, and we can just fly in the bat plane.

To be nothing - is that not, after all, the most satisfactory fact in the whole world?' asks a dog in a novel I read once (Virginia Woolf Flush 87). I wonder what the smell of nothing is. Smell of autopsy.

Nox just keeps staring at me like I'm the worst thing that has ever happened to him. And, fuck, maybe I am, but at least I won't be the worst thing to ever be unleashed on the entire population of the country.

North looks worried about me, but Nox has nothing but pride shining there, pride in me and what I can do. Pride in the hard work that sometimes feels like too much, but I did it anyway. Pride that he found me; that I'm his and he is mine.

Clearly, his combination of innocent loveliness and assertive domination worked on women who favored the company of men. Nox didn’t always hate men. She had found some friendly, and others tolerable, if not occasionally charming in their own way.

ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram, perque domos Ditis vacuas et inania regna: quale per incertam lunam sub luce maligna est iter in silvis, ubi caelum condidit umbra Iuppiter, et rebus nox abstulit atra colorem.'' - Virgil, Aenid Liber VI, 268-272.

Quick, when the Nox invaded District Eleven in episode thirty-four, what did Carmindor and Princess Amara do?" My eyebrows furrow. "They... joined forces?" He nods gravely. "Elle, would you join forces with me? Together we can defeat the Nox -Geekerella

Dies, inquit, nihil est. Dum versas te, nox fit. Itaque nihil est melius quam de cubiculo recta in triclinium ire. Et mundum frigus habuimus. Vix me balneus calfecit. Tamen calda potio vestiarius est. Staminatas duxi, et plane matus sum. Vinus mihi in cerebrum abiit.

Aestus erat, mediamque dies exegerat horam; adposui medio membra levanda toro. pars adaperta fuit, pars altera clausa fenestrae; quale fere silvae lumen habere solent, qualia sublucent fugiente crepuscula Phoebo, aut ubi nox abiit, nec tamen orta dies. illa verecundis lux est praebenda puellis, qua timidus latebras speret habere pudor. ecce, Corinna venit, tunica velata recincta, candida dividua colla tegente coma— qualiter in thalamos famosa Semiramis isse dicitur, et multis Lais amata viris. Deripui tunicam—nec multum rara nocebat; pugnabat tunica sed tamen illa tegi. quae cum ita pugnaret, tamquam quae vincere nollet, victa est non aegre proditione sua. ut stetit ante oculos posito velamine nostros, in toto nusquam corpore menda fuit. quos umeros, quales vidi tetigique lacertos! forma papillarum quam fuit apta premi! quam castigato planus sub pectore venter! quantum et quale latus! quam iuvenale femur! Singula quid referam? nil non laudabile vidi et nudam pressi corpus ad usque meum. Cetera quis nescit? lassi requievimus ambo. proveniant medii sic mihi saepe dies!

I cannot live without you, Oleander. I won’t. I thought Nox dying was the worst thing that could’ve happened and then your heart stopped beating, and I knew that I couldn’t go on without you at my side. I love you too much to do that. It was only my bond keeping me from going after you.

Your brother told me to take care of you.” Nox rubbed his temple. Protect him like you would me. “He sent me here because without me you’ll never survive.” Luca’s frown deepened. “Is this the part where you tell me the future of humanity needs me to lead them to victory over the giant robot army?

Nox was quiet for a moment before he said: “The next time we pair off for lessons, find me, will you?” “Why?” She reached for another dagger, but found she’d depleted her stock again. Nox threw another dagger, and it hit the bull’s-eye this time. “Because my gold’s on you winning this whole damn thing.

What’s Mombi doing then?” I asked. Nox wiggled his eyebrows and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper. “Mombi’s afraid of heights,” he said. “She’s not casting a spell. She’s saying her prayers.” “Who exactly do wicked witches pray to?” Nox laughed. “Who knows? She’s just trying to stay distracted so she doesn’t piss herself before we land.

Good for him. Good. For. Fucking. Him. And bless his damned heart, too.

The Truth," is an impermanent state of belief, ruled by the circumstances of 'TIME.

Ain’t ridin’ nut to butt with someone over the age of ten.

Koi no yokan… The age-old Japanese concept, the one that meant falling in love, not at first sight, but knowing it would come if only given a second glance.

Just let her in, dickhead! She's the closest thing Sage has to a sister. Plus, we're all alive thanks to Oli and her Bonded Group. You're not going to get very far by pissing off North Draven’s Bonded, and rumor has it, Nox has finally decided to cozy up with her. I, personally, would rather fling myself off the roof of this place than go toe-to-toe with either one of the Death Dealers.

Je lui avais promis, dans les secrets de nos nuits, que si ses monstres s’étaient acharnés à le marquer de leur haine, moi, je recouvrirais jour après jour chacune de ses blessures d’une marque d’amour.

Soothsayer. It's been an age, or maybe even three, since I last saw you. I was kind of hoping I wouldn't run into you in this lifetime. I'd rather deal with the shadow boys than you.” A very inappropriate giggle tries to burst out of my lips at the very idea of someone calling North and Nox ‘shadow boys’. I know that if I look at either one of them right now, I will lose the fight and dissolve into a fit of laughter.

With that Nox turned a knob. There was a delay, but that was how the machine worked. First it gathered information about the subject, feeling, sensing—like a fighter in a ring, circling his opponent. Kaleb sensed it, too. It was as if a doctor palpated his flesh, pushing his skin. It tingled gently. The tingling surged through his whole body. Was this it? Kaleb thought. Visions from his past shot through his brain. His mother. Father. Zenobia. Joan and Reck. The Three Musketeers. Pleasant memories. Then the machine found what it searched for, and it acted. Waves of pain shot through his entire body, causing him to arch his back. He screamed in agony, his screams reverberating across the canyon. Then all of his muscles constricted. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even scream. It seemed to last forever. It stopped, and his muscles relaxed, allowing him to breath.

If you try to look up my skirt, I'll poke needles in your eyes right through your eyelids while you're asleep.' 'I'm looking for help, you give me nightmares, thank you so much.' She was on the top step now, reaching up for a bin marked DRY BEANS. Rigg looked up her skirt, mostly because she told him not to, and saw nothing at all of interest. He could never understand why Nox and other women, too, were always so sure men wanted to see whatever it is they concealed under their clothes.

What are we toasting?" I ask, slightly bemused. "Reward for employer of the year?" It's a dumb joke, and I almost groan at my own crappy attempt at humour. Our glasses clink and Hue just sighs. "My only reward will be the sweet embrace of death

Don't take another fucking step near my Bond or I'll rip your fucking throat out with my bare teeth." I wonder which one of the crew has been stupid enough to try to approach us because he cannot be talking to one of the Dravens like that, but then Nox says, snark dripping down his words, "She's my Bond as well." Atlas scoffs. "No, she's your punching bag, your favorite victim. She's the default villain in every one of your stories. You move even an inch closer and I'll take the whole fucking plane out to stop you. No more warnings.

Don’t take another fucking step near my Bond or I’ll rip your fucking throat out with my bare teeth.” I wonder which one of the crew has been stupid enough to try to approach us because he cannot be talking to one of the Dravens like that, but then Nox says, snark dripping down his words, “She’s my Bond as well.” Atlas scoffs. “No, she’s your punching bag, your favorite victim. She’s the default villain in every one of your stories. You move even an inch closer and I’ll take the whole fucking plane out to stop you. No more warnings.

Pelor’s freckled face paled a bit. “Bill Chastain—the Eye Eater—was found stone cold dead this morning.” A Champion was dead? And a notorious killer at that. “How?” she demanded. Pelor swallowed hard. “Verin said it wasn’t pretty. Like someone ripped him wide open. He passed the body on his way here.” Nox cursed under his breath, and Celaena studied the other Champions. A hush had fallen on the group, and clusters of them stood together, whispering. Verin’s story was spreading fast. Pelor went on. “He said Chastain’s body was in ribbons.

Circus tricks ain’t much use when you’re the King’s Champion.” She shifted her gaze to him, but kept positioned toward the target. “You’d be better off on your back, learning tricks useful to a woman. In fact, I can teach you some tonight, if you’d like.” He laughed, and Cain joined with him. Celaena gripped the hilt of a dagger so hard that it hurt. “Don’t listen to them,” Nox murmured. He tossed another dagger, missing the bull’s-eye again. “They wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a woman, even if one walked stark naked into their bedroom.

She realized that she’d never truly known the power of a kiss–not when just the merest touch of lips stopped reality, ended daylight, drawing her into an existence that should not be real and yet was the only palpable thing. The only thing she could feel. The only thing she wanted to feel.

Orio, I was just like you once, unable to let people in and working so hard to pretend I didn’t care about anyone who tried to get under my defences,” I said seriously and he looked to me with a frown. “I just don’t want you to lose out on the best friendships of your life because you’re a stubborn asshole, or worse, something awful happens and you lose the chance to form them forever.

She was hungry for something much more substantial than sugar. It was time to put the cherry lollipops aside. The power games of her childhood were no longer enough. This kiss only proves that. Nox didn’t taste sweet. He tasted strong. Like steel and fire. Electrical fire. That was the taste of power. That’s what I want now. Isn’t it?

The Truth,' is an impermanent state of belief, rules by the circumstances of 'TIME.

Rash decisions will more often than not, result in the demise of chances you could have had with a situation for a better outcome; now foregone.

No te dejes engañar por las primeras impresiones. Sólo has estado dos días en Kansas. Has acampado en una pradera y te ha fascinado. Y lo entiendo; Kansas también tiene su encanto, pero mi planeta se está volviendo loco, créeme. los océanos han alcanzado niveles insospechados, los gobiernos cada vez declaran más guerras a países vecinos, varias especies de plantas y animales han desaparecido de la faz de la Tierra, cada semana aparece en las noticias un niño que ha tomado la pistola de su padre y ha disparado a sus compañeros de instituto... —al ver la cara de Nox, paré—. El mundo en el que crecí también desapareció—añadí en voz baja—, pero eso no significa que vaya a perder la esperanza en él. Porque si te rindes, ¿qué sentido tendría la vida?

Do me a favor, Celaena,” Nox said. The sound of her name startled her. He brought his mouth close to her ear. “Rip Cain’s head off,” he whispered with a wicked grin. Celaena only smiled back at him and nodded. Nox left early that night, slipping out of the castle without a word to anyone.

Hey, Nox.” My brother blinked at me, his stare perplexed. “You’re in a mood.” I was. I really was. “Dr. Bennet has a lot of pictures of Batman. He must be a fan.

Now that you’ve agreed to testing, why don’t we start with a Rorschach? To break the ice.” I sighed. “You’re familiar with the concept?” He wagged the first picture at me. “You tell me what each of a series of inkblot images looks like to you—” “I know what the test is.” I’d seen it on a television before the murders. “It looks like Batman.” Frowning, the human traced the edge of the cardstock with the tip of his finger. “I haven’t showed you the inkblot yet, Nox.” I nodded. “Batman.” He showed me the picture. “This is Batman,” he said, deadpan. I squinted at the thing. It sort of looked like a bat and that was good enough for me. “Yep.” All of the pictures would be Batman if I had any say about it, and sadly for Dr. Bennet, I did.

If you’re sleeping in here, then don’t be an asshole and drag Oli around everywhere. Learn to share.” Nox just stares back at him. “No.

When I pull back, we’re both breathless. “I love you.” His mouth tugs into a grin. “Fucking love you too.