likeRomeo and Juliet or Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. It isn鈥檛 a love story, it鈥檚 a hate story.鈥�
銆��鈥淵ou have some serious issues with the classics,鈥�I snapped.
銆��鈥淧erhaps it鈥檚 because I鈥檓 not impressed by antiquity.鈥�He smiled, evidently satisfied that he鈥檇 distractedme. 鈥淗onestly, though, why do you read it over and over?鈥�His eyes were vivid with real interest now, trying鈥�again 鈥�to unravel the convoluted workings of my mind. He reached across the table to cradle my face inhis hand. 鈥淲hat is it that appeals to you?鈥�
銆��His sincere curiosity disarmed me. 鈥淚鈥檓 not sure,鈥�I said, scrambling for coherency while his gazeunintentionally scattered my thoughts. 鈥淚 think it鈥檚 something about the inevitability. How nothing can keepthem apart 鈥�not her selfishness, or his evil, or even death, in the end. . . .鈥�
銆��His face was thoughtful as he considered my words. After a moment he smiled a teasing smile. 鈥淚 still thinkit would be a better story if either of them had one redeeming quality.鈥�
銆��鈥淚 think that may
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