Connor slowly pulled away and sat at the end of the bed. Dawn got up.

"I think I need some water," she said. "Do you need water?"

He nodded. She took two bottles from the mini-fridge. He could never get over how cold and clean the water was in this part of this world. He rarely drank anything else anymore, because each sip was like a miracle. Why would you dump in sugar and chemicals on purpose? Of course, food was another matter. God, he loved processed food. This was better. He was thinking about other things. The tightness in his jeans was no longer painful.

"Maybe you should just tie me up," he muttered under his breath. Dawn heard, though, and choked on a mouthful of water. Connor looked at her with alarm. "Are you alright? What can I do?"

"I'm fine," she croaked when her coughing subsided. She stood up and paced, gesturing emphatically. "It's just your bondage-fun suggestion kind of threw me, since we haven't even had our first date."

"What? No, not like that. I just meant—I got lost for a moment, and I hurt you, but you wanted to keep going. If you tied me up with strong enough bindings, you could kiss me all you wanted and we wouldn't have to worry."

"I'm not worried. See, the problem is, you're trying to be two people—one all safe and happy, the other dark and strong and wild. But you're both. The minute I got hurt, you stopped. Eventually, you'll know before it hurts."

He sighed and considered her words, then nodded. "Maybe we should date," he said.

"Damn straight, bucko."

For a moment they were normal kids, entering their numbers in each other's cell phones and setting up their first date. Then came the moment when a normal guy would have left. Well, some normal guys would have seduced Dawn after that first kiss (skipping the long conversation and rounds of confessions), fucked, showered and left. But this was the moment when Normal Connor would have left, smiling and promising to call her. Then he would have waited a few days to ring her up. Connor's hand was on the doorknob. Then he turned.

"I don't like leaving you. It feels wrong."

She giggled, thinking, Man, I love him. He just says what he wants. He doesn't play it cool. He could be breaking hearts all over campus, and instead he's in my bedroom, looking all lost. She didn't notice that the "L" word had crept into her thoughts.

"Then stay!"

They decided to go to sleep, despite the thumping music, laughter and voices coming from the living room. Each took a turn in the bathroom. Dawn came out in soft pink shorts and a white tank top, her face scrubbed clean. Connor came out in his boxers. Dawn pulled back the sheets and patted the mattress beside her. He climbed into bed with her, and they began to spoon.

Since the box broke, Connor had dreamed of toads falling from the sky, birds dashed bloody against the windows, night that stretched forever, a virgin begging for mercy and receiving Cordy's blade, and Jasmine's face—rotting muscles, maggots and bone—beaming love until her last breath.

With Dawn in his arms, his sleep was peaceful. He dreamt of falling stars.