SpanishDragon

 About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him-and I didn't know how potent that part might be-that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with— "Agent Hill, what are you reading?" "Oh," the dark-haired woman blushed deeply, tucking the book under some unfinished paperwork on her desk. "It's one of those vampire romance novels. I, uh, wanted to see what all the fuss was about." "This is pretty well-worn," Coulson remarked, picking it up and observing the battered spine. "Hardly a first-time read." He smiled at his coworker and toss

I spent twenty minutes arranging the wine, bread, and tablecloth, and another hour in the garden picking flowers, all for Jesus. I felt the room breathing with its own life before I ever even sat down on the couch. Last year I spilled the wine, this time the bread falls off the plate, cracking on the floor, Christ's broken body - I'm so imperfect, small, a wailing babe. I want to promise I'll be good for the rest of my life, but that is impractical. You and I know better. You know there's too much settled dust on this body, just as there was on the fine porcelain dishes mother pulled from the china cabinet. My footprints are muddy,