"Four flips the gun in this hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. "Wake. Up,"Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."
"Sometimes crying or laughing are the only options left, and laughing feels better right now."
"Moths,"repeats Will. "You're afraid of moths?""Not just a cloud of moths,"she says, "like...a swarm of them. Everywhere. All those wings and legs and..."She shudders and shakes her head."Terrifying,"Will says with mock seriousness. "That's my girl. Tough as cotton balls.""Oh, Shut up."
"Then I realize what it is. It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames."
"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up"
"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating."He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just...want to see it again. Want to see you awake."