| abstract | - It was released on May 6, 2013 as the lead single from Mariah's fourteenth album "Me. I Am Mariah… The Elusive Chanteuse." It replaced the previous lead single "Triumphant (Get 'Em)." The song was written by Mariah, Miguel, Nathan Perez & Brooke Davis and produced by Mariah, Miguel & Nathan Perez. Mariah & Miguel didn't reveal that they had collaborated on the song until April 25, 2013 when Mariah revealed the title in a 25-second teaser video during season twelve of "American Idol." On May 9, 2013, Mariah premiered the official music video for the song before she uploaded an alternate edit to her VEVO account that's set to the explicit versio of the song. "Beautiful" is a mid-tempo and stripped down R&B and soul track. It received generally positive reviews from music critics, many of whom were complimentary of Mariah's decision to collaborate with Miguel. After garnering an audience impression of 31 million in its first two days of radio airplay, the song debuted at number 44 on the US Radio Songs chart. On May 13, 2013, Mariah taped a performance of the song along with a medley of her greatest hits. The following day on the Season 12 finale episode of "American Idol," the taping aired. The song peaked at number 15 on the Billboard Hot 100 and at number three on the R&B/Hip-Hop Tracks Chart in the United States. It received a Platinum certification from the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) and is her thirteenth single which shipped a million copies. The song peaked at number six on the Australian Singles Chart and has also received a platinum certification by the Australian Recording Industry Association (ARIA) and gold certification from Recorded Music NZ. "Beautiful" has sold over 1.2 million digital copies in the United States, making it one of Mariah's best selling singles in years.
- Beautiful is made on Monday june 04 2007 by -shield-boy-
- "Beautiful" is the eighth track on Deep Shadows and Brilliant Highlights. The finalized arrangement and mix of the song has a much more romantic feel to it than it's predecessor, which the band had more of a strong regard towards. It was performed scarcely on the Razorblade Romance Summer Tour. Earlier takes of this song in it's original arrangement from the Hollola tapes were released on the limited edition In Joy and Sorrow CD-single and Uneasy Listening Vol. 2. The song is also featured in the film Haggard. This song was written with some one special in mind.
- Beautiful is a fanfiction written and published on FanFiction.Net and DeviantART by Icelilly.
- Pillars of smoke rose into the darkening sky, blotting out the light of twin suns and sprinkling a thin blanket of ash onto the ensuing carnage below. The once bright and bountiful city at the top of the canyon lay in burning ruins. Explosions still rattled through the tattered remains of buildings, even though there was almost nothing left inside. For those who had once lived here, a living hell had descended onto civilization. Suffice it to say, this was not a good day for the Viradians. They were once a prosperous race, their society spanning half the galaxy. For five thousand years, Viradian gems had been traded freely among species as a symbol of peace. But about six months ago, the Daleks had arrived, and things pretty much went downhill after that. Since then, the Viradian Empire was decimated, their colonies and outposts destroyed, their population killed or enslaved. A small band of rebel fighters remained, hiding among the ruins of the cities and in the nearby wilderness. But it was only a matter of time before the Daleks found them as well. Until then, the Viradians would survive, and try to reclaim whatever they could of their once glorious society. And today, they had gotten a bit of help. “REPORT!” the Dalek commander barked at the two soldiers in front of him. They were in the control room for the Viradian weapons base, a small place covered in panels and security screens. One of the Daleks glided up to the commander. “REBEL VIRADIANS HAVE BEEN DETECTED NEAR POWER STATION NUMBER TWELVE,” it said. “THEY ARE PROCEEDING TOWARDS THE BUILDING.” “FIND THEM AND EXTERMINATE THEM!” the Dalek commander shouted, and turned to exit. But someone was blocking the doorway. Someone who definitely should not have been there. “You’re just going to kill them, then? That’s the problem with a Dalek. You’re just so…unimaginative. In any case, I wouldn’t try firing at them so close to the power station. Could be nasty if you hit it.” The man in the doorway was wearing a chocolate brown waistcoat, underneath a dark oilskin trench coat patched with leather and cloth. His trousers were fitted with a mess of baggy pockets, and he was wearing a pair of boots covered with snakeskin motif. And most peculiarly, he held a walking stick which appeared to be topped with a question mark. All three Daleks jolted into attention. “IDENTIFY YOURSELF!” the Dalek commander shouted. “Oh, come on now! Surely that path web of yours has reinstated itself by now. Dalek technology, always one step ahead of most people. Well…I’m not most people.” The man paused for a moment. “But then again…new face, new man. New updates needed in the machinery.” “IDENTIFY YOURSELF OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!” the Dalek commander continued to shout. He was in a rather bad mood today to begin with. The man stepped up close to the commander. “A lot of people have died today,” he said. “And countless more since you started this invasion. All of them innocent. Because of you.” “THAT IS IRRELEVANT,” the Dalek commander replied. “To you, maybe,” the man said, waving his walking stick like a circus baton. “But to the rest of us, life is worth something. It’s something to be cherished. But you? You think it’s something for you to just destroy, again and again and again. And that’s why I’m going to have to stop you.” “YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!” the Dalek commander shouted, and all three Dalek guns in the room swiveled to aim at the man. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” the man sighed, and pointed his walking stick at a panel at the back of the room. The question mark top flipped up, and a buzzing red light emerged from the stick. There was a spark, and the panel collapsed. “Hope you don’t mind about that,” the man said. “Just the security systems for the power station going down. You’re not going to need them anymore anyway.” “EXTERMIN – ” “Shut up for a moment, will you?” the man said. “I haven’t even told you who I am yet. Considering you were so insistent about it before…” He walked up very close to the Dalek commander, and peered into its eyestalk. “I’m the Doctor.” All three Daleks instantly recoiled, gliding back a few feet. “Tell your masters,” the Doctor said. “There’s a storm coming.” If the Dalek Emperor had a mouth, it would have been smiling. The drive to exterminate the rebel Viradians was coming along nicely. Already, several of them had been caught and exterminated. Just now he had received word that a large group of rebels was on the move. It was sure that they would be found and painfully exterminated, just like all the others. And the Dalek Emperor liked nothing more than the pain and suffering of Dalek victims. All around its jet black casing, several guards patrolled the surrounding area. The Emperor’s flagship was safely floating high above Viradios in space, where they could watch everything moving perfectly. Soon enough, the Viradians would be totally eradicated, and the Daleks would move on to the next civilization, to start the whole thing over again. They had gotten plenty of practice, and they were very, very good at it. But something was different today. There was an odd signal trying to come through on the Emperor’s private channel, something usually reserved for dire emergencies. “OPEN CHANNEL GAMMA-ZED THREE,” he boomed to nobody in particular, and immediately a hologram activated in front of him. The signal was coming from the Viradian weapons base, which had long since been under Dalek control. Instead, there was a slightly shabby man wearing unusual clothes at the controls. He waved. “Hello.” There was a brief silence from both ends, as the two analyzed each other from both ends of the signal. “DOC-TOR,” the Dalek Emperor boomed. “Well, you’re certainly sharper than these three were,” the Doctor said. “May I ask how you figured it out? Was it the coat? Or maybe the hair? It’s gotten a bit wiry since the last time we came upon each other. Haven’t had that in a while –” “CEASE YOUR MINDLESS DRABBLE.” “…sorry. But yeah, that’s me.” “WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO ACHIEVE WHEN WE HAVE ALREADY WON THIS BATTLE?” “To stop you, of course. You know that there are still a few Viradians out there. They’ll be fighting until the bitter end. And do you know what? They have something that not one single Dalek in the entire universe has. Hope. And that hope drives them to fight against you. They won’t stop.” “WE CONTROL THEIR TECHNOLOGY. THEIR CITIES ARE BURNT. THEY ARE POWERLESS AGAINST US.” “Well, I suppose so. Unless…they have Dalek technology, am I right?” The Emperor paused. “IT IS OF NO CONSEQUENCE,” it said. “Is it, now?” the Doctor asked, and folded his arms. “Tell me.” “EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF DALEK WEAPONRY ON THE PLANETS AND COLONIES OF THE VIRADIAN EMPIRE IS UNDER MAXIMUM SECURITY. THEY WILL REMAIN SO UNTIL EVERY LAST REBEL IS DEAD AND WE HAVE TOTAL CONTROL OVER THE EMPIRE.” The Doctor clapped his hands together. “And this is where it gets interesting. I’ll tell you the whole story, shall I? The Viradians are smart, and they know help when they see it. I popped by out of chance, saw what had happened to them, and gave them exactly the help they needed. You see this?” He moved to the side, revealing the interior of the weapons base. “I took the liberty of shutting off the security systems to the power station while I was in here. And, as I’m sure you know, the Viradians are heading there right now. They have access to the whole building.” “AND WHAT GOOD IS POWER WITHOUT A VESSEL FOR IT TO BE USED IN?” the Emperor boomed. “Precisely,” the Doctor grinned. “And since I’m in the weapons base control room…I can give them exactly that.” He flipped a switch. “There we are. They can get their hands on anything in the storage now. As for what happens next, well, you can do the math.” Immediately, there were alarms in the flagship about incoming missiles. “DOC-TOR!” the Emperor shouted over the cacophony. “WE WILL FIND YOU AND EXTERMINATE YOU!” “We’ll see about that,” the Doctor said. “You could have left the Viradians alone, but no. You had your shot, and you blew it. The thing about you Daleks…is that you never learn.” The hologram flicked off. Explosions hit the hull of the ship, and it started to disintegrate. It would never fly again. “Doctor!” The Doctor turned around, and saw that Fria, one of the Viradians he had befriended during this little incident, was running towards him. The ruins of the city had stopped smoking, and the remaining Viradians were setting out to rebuild now that the Daleks had been vanquished. The sky had begun to light up again, and the twin suns beamed down across the landscape. “Where the blazes are you going?” Fria said, once she had caught up with him. “It’s going to be quite a job putting everything back together. It’s the whole Empire we’re reconstructing. We could use your help.” “Well, I’ll see what I can do,” the Doctor said. “I might call up the Beruchi. Fantastic builders, they are. They’ve got twice the arms to do twice the work of one man. But I’m afraid I can’t stay. The Daleks are still out there, after all. No doubt they’re on one of their little conquest sprees. I’ll do what I can about it.” They had started walking again, up a hill where the TARDIS, blue as ever, sat patiently. “And after that?” Fria asked. “Business as usual,” the Doctor said. “Go off, see the sights, eat the food, fight the monsters. The same life it’s ever been.” “Normal life must seem so boring to you,” Fria admitted. “That depends on your definition of ‘normal,’” the Doctor said. They had reached the TARDIS now. From where they stood, they could see down into the massive canyon that lay below the city and across the plains for miles on end. “If I may ask,” Fria began, “…why do you do it? Live the life that you live, I mean. All the wandering like a lost tourist. Instead of sitting down somewhere nice and taking a couple days off. The Doctor paused as he contemplated the question, looking out over the landscape. “On Gallifrey,” he began, “there used to be a huge mountain range near where I lived. When I was younger, during the wintertime, I used to go out and wait near the foot of the mountains. Sometimes you’d be lucky enough to see a flurry of sulphurized snow floating down onto the grass. Whenever that happened you would see the flocks of Iridescent Runners emerge from the mountains. Oh, they loved it. I watched them frolicking about in the grass, just enjoying the world… “Do you realize how lucky we are? Here on Viradios, we only have a planet to stand on because certain space rocks coalesced near a binary star system. We only have life because certain chemicals interacted with each other about five billion years ago. The Viradians are only here thanks to a series of terribly complicated evolutions and extinctions that allowed your species to survive. The odds are stacked against us all, and yet we’re standing here right now, looking out over the world, having this conversation. It’s remarkable.” The Doctor opened the doors of the TARDIS. “And because we’re so lucky to be here, I think that we should enjoy it. There is an infinite array of wonders out in the universe and beyond, and despite the fact that they may have barely existed at all, we hardly ever appreciate them. So at least someone needs to do it. And besides…if we are lucky enough to exist, just for one time, we should take advantage of that fact. Go out and enjoy ourselves. Make the most of it. And then, at the end of our lives, we find that it was so very worth it.” He reached beyond the TARDIS doors and grabbed a very worn, very floppy fedora, and placed it on his head. The Doctor gave one last look at Fria and said, “And it’s so very beautiful out there.” The Doctor closed the doors, and with a grinding of engines the TARDIS faded away to the next adventure.
- Beautiful de Christina Aguilera: Stripped.
- Beautiful to piosenka Chiny Anne McClain, która pojawiła się w odcinku Amerykańska Noc Talentów. Dziewczyna wykonuje ją na konkursie talentów.
- Eun Young es una mujer maldecida con una gran belleza. En cualquier parte donde ella vaya, ella consigue la admiración no deseada de hombres y los celos de las mujeres. Un día, uno de sus admiradores la acecha. Ser guapa es un drama, si no que se lo pregunten a Eun Young, una mujer atractiva que atrae todas las miradas masculinas y que no puede tener amigas, pues terminan cayendo en el pozo de los celos. Pese al constante acecho de los hombres, ella se mantiene virgen cual nínfula, objeto de deseo inaccesible. La gota que colma el vaso se produce cuando un admirador la viola en su apartamento y Eun Young se ve abocada a la locura.
- Beautiful (nota anche come Bruttiful) è una soap opera americana, creata 15781 anni fa, che narra le vicende di una famiglia mafiosa che come copertura ha una rinomata casa di moda. Ambientata in un'altra dimensione parallela (il secondo buco nero a destra dopo Giove) in un pianeta simile alla Terra, tale che il tempo, lo spazio e le persone siano completamente distorte.
- On the tube, people are talking, dancing. It appears to be a recording of a wedding, perhaps for a family friend. The picture is low quality, very fuzzy. The tape is no doubt old, it was in the machine when I turned the television on. I stare, transfixed. The people, despite the horrible picture, are wonderful looking. Beautiful, even. “Beautiful,” I whisper, smiling. A noise upstairs, the sound of someone walking down the stairs, makes me jump, and I stand quickly and quietly, slowing my breathing even though I know they can't hear me. With one hand I shut off the television, and now every inhale and exhale sounds as loud as a fan blowing air directly in one's ear. I creep to the bottom of the stairs, still alarmed. I'm not supposed to be down here, and it's late. Perhaps the family heard me or maybe it's an intruder. This new thought strikes terror into my heart, and the pumping and thudding in my ears grows louder as my pulse races. My breathing quickens, despite all my attempts to be quiet, and I know that if they were to open the door up there they would hear me and my cover would be blown. Almost panicking and ready to bolt, I step on the lowest stair and begin to climb, praying that none of them creaks. I'm almost to the top when one of them does, a creak so loud that it surely woke half the block, let alone anyone in the house. I hear shuffling on the other side of the door; padded feet scurrying about through the room. A female voice calls out, calling for a man or perhaps a boy. It does not matter, the name is not mine. I freeze where I stand, raising my hand to strike. If the door opens. Slowly but surely it creeps open, keeps opening, and the woman on the other side is not scared yet, she's not screaming yet, and I understand that the shadows are hiding me from sight, but then she flicks the switch for the stairway light and I attack, swinging my hand towards her face as hard as I can. Her eyes go wide and her mouth opens in a surprised O shape a split second before her head goes flying and her body crumples to the ground, blood pumping out of her neck and flowing across the floor and pooling at my feet. In my panicked state, I'd hit her so hard that I decapitated her. That coppery smell fills my nose and my heart rate becomes steady. There is not a single sound in the house, not even a mouse. I step into the room and flip the switch for the light, closing the door behind me, once again submerged in complete darkness. I reach down and run my fingers through her long brown hair, picking up her head and raising it to eye level. Smiling, I run my long, wet tongue over her cheek, tasting her sweet white flesh. I nibble her parted lips with my sharp teeth, savoring her. “Beautiful,” I croak. “So beautiful.” I wonder who else is upstairs.
- Massie Block always makes sure that she looks extremely gorgeous because she is the Alpha that everyone looks up to. Being a true Alpha mostly comes from the inside, but here's how to look like an Alpha on the outside.
- As I sit in a secluded, shady corner of the RainClan camp, trying to eat my prey, I allow myself the luxury of letting my thoughts wander. And instead of traveling to hunting tactics or fighting moves, they travel to a much more touchy subject. Toms. Firestrike. Instinctively, I look around the camp, but he's nowhere to be seen. He might be out hunting or on a border patrol; nevertheless, disappointment gathers in my chest. Whatever he was doing, he probably wasn't thinking of me. I meant nothing to him at all; it was foolish fantasy to convince myself otherwise. And yet I couldn't help it. No matter how much I tried to get Firestrike out of my mind, he wouldn't leave. It was like his image had been imprinted there, for better or for worse, and I could never be rid of it. At this point, I wasn't sure if I wanted to. I was the last cat anyone would expect to be mooning over a tom. I'd always been independent, headstrong, and quite mule-headed. So why now? What was so special about Firestrike? Nearby, Specklenose's flirting with Russetmoon. The pretty - and airheaded - she-cat twirls and giggles and laughs, clearly charming her way into the tom's heart. I curl my lip in disgust. That's part of the reason I prefer to consider toms as only friends; I don't want to turn into one of those. We have enough Russetmoons and Moonpetals(two of the biggest flirts in RainClan) in the world; we don't need anymore. And yet, looking at Specklenose's smitten face, I realize something. Firestrike never gets all moon-eyed like that, just because a she-cat is pretty or charming. He never gives in to anyone's flirting. He's not like the other toms. He is special. Everything about him is special. If I had to choose a mate, could I honestly say I wouldn't choose him? "Beechwhisker!" Turning, my heart warms as I see Firestrike padding toward me, a bouqet of pink flowers in his mouth. A petal lands on his nose and he sneezes, but keeps ahold of his precious bundle. "Hi," I say, not daring to hope such a pretty gift could be for me. Okay, I can't help hoping, but I know they're not. He lays the flowers at my paws, blushing bright red under his ginger pelt. "I... I found these growing out. They're the first wildflowers of newleaf and I- I thought of you when I saw the. So I brought them back. I thought you might like them." Speechless, I can only blink at him. He thought of me? He thought of me. The thing was, he had no idea how much that fact meant to me. How much the flowers meant to me. And somehow, he made my day wonderful, as if it was something natural. As if it was meant to be. Earnestly, like a little kit, he mews, "Do you like them? If they're just a bother I'll-" "I love them," I blurt out. Lowering my lashes in embarrassment, I mew softly, "Thank you." A smile lights up his face, like the sun breaking over the horizon. "No problem. I'm just glad I could make you happy." He crimsons even more and changes the subject. "How was your day?" I decide to follow the course he sets for the conversation, though all I really want to do is tell him how truly amazing and pure he is for what he did. "It was great." Laying my head down, I breathe in the sweet essence of the flower blooms. They smell like newleaf. Like hope. Like young love. And despite the fact that no tom has ever made me starstruck, as I listen with rapt attention to Firestrike's story about his hunt earlier in the day, I realize that the way my heart is beating betrays my true feelings. And the thing is, I don't mind. "... and when I jumped at the squirrel, it darted out of the way, and I slammed into a tree," Firestrike ends regretfully. He touches a paw to his nose with a sheepish grin. "I was a mouse-brain, but I really wanted to get that mouse." I laugh lightly and touch my nose to his ear. "Silly, but I've done worse." We fall silent, gazing at each other. I want to look away but find I can't. Though this is something new, I almost like it. That feeling of being the only two cats in the world... is this what all those dreamy-faced couples go crazy over? I can almost understand it now. Somehow, in some way, I want to convey some of the feelings that are rising up within me. But I just can't; it's like there's a force stopping me from doing so. Instead, I move a little closer. Firestrike's emerald eyes glow in the evening light, and I realize he can feel my emotions. He understands. But it's not enough. For such a sweet, shy tom to believe I actually like him, I need to say so. Need to show him. And that's something I can't do. Yet. At that moment, Russetmoon walks by. When she sees us, her eyebrows shoot up, and she hurries over to Moonpetal, a devious glint in her eyes. "Look over there," she says, loud enough for the entire world to hear, in my opinion. "It's Beechwhisker and Firestrike. I knew those two were perfect for each other!" My face goes hot. Even though I can't figure out how I feel about Firestrike myself, that gives them no right to spread rumors. We're just friends, I tell myself. And usually I'm okay with that. Just being friends with toms. But with Firestrike... somehow that doesn't seem enough. When I think about him becoming mates with another she-cat, having kits, a void seems to open up in my heart. One that only being near him can close. It's like he completes me, fills a part of me I never knew was missing. Until now. Actually, maybe I had noticed the missing part, only in subtle ways. When I saw couples together, I can't say all of me was filled with disgust. A small part always wondered, Could a tom ever love me like that? And I always answered myself no. That was when I started to despise romance. I had never viewed it as what I see it as now: something pure and sacred between two cats. I glance at Firestrike out of the corner of my eye. He's looking back at me; we both flush and drop our gazes. A certainty that no other cats have ever experienced such a bond rises in me. This is something for only Firestrike and me. If I can work up the courage to tell him how I feel. "Hey, how about a walk in the woods? I know it's late, but it's fine with me if it's fine with you." There's such hope in Firestrike's voice that I wouldn't have turned him down even if I wanted to- which I didn't. With a smile, I purr, "Sure." Side-by-side, we exit the RainClan camp and enter the woods. Golden shafts of sunlight converge into pools on the ground and cast halos above our heads. The air is fragrant and moist with the smells of early newleaf: the freshness of morning dew, the sharp tang of new berries, the perfume of wildflowers, and the sweetness of newly-made honey among the trees. I take in a deep breath, reveling in my surroundings. Firestrike watches me with a kind of tenderness I can't put words to. It sends a thrill through me which I can't explain. Gently brushing my pelt with his, I murmur, "This is nice." "It sure is," he breathes. The evening breeze wraps me in a cocoon of his scent, a fact I don't mind at all. Without thinking, I nestle closer against his shoulder. For a second he freezes, then hesitantly lays his tail over my shoulder. It's just the right thing to do; I feel like I'm in heaven. How does he always know how to make me happy, no matter what? It's a gift no one's ever had, a gift no one's ever shown me. "Firestrike," I whisper hazily, feeling half-delirious with the richness of the twilight. "Beechwhisker." My name is like a puff of cloud or the soft fall of a raindrop, coming out of his mouth. It sounds so much more beautiful then who I really am. But then again, Firestrike could make anything sound beautiful. Even me. I love you. The words are a storm building inside me, desperate to get out. I yearn to say them so badly that when I hear the, it takes me a moment to realize I wasn't the one who said them. "I love you." When I do come to the conclusion that it was Firestrike who spoke, I freeze. So does he. Our eyes lock. My heart is hammering inside my chest. "D- Do you really mean that?" I ask, half in dread and half in hope. There's no uncertainty in his voice, despite his quietness, as he whispers, "Yes." My breath comes in short gasps. I can't tell if this is a dream come true or a nightmare. Before I can say anything though, Firestrike blurts, "I'm sorry. I really am. To burden you with such a confession... when you clearly don't feel the same way. It's not your fault. It's mine." Are those tears shimmering in his eyes? Full of self-loathing, I mew fiercely, "It is most certainly not your fault. It's mine. I couldn't see it; I was blind. Blind to how I felt for you." His jaw drops. "How do you feel for me?" he asks, his voice husky. "I... love you too." Incredulously, he repeats, "You love me? How?" I know there's no way out of it; I have to account for my behavior if I ever want to convince him that he truly does mean a lot to me. "Look, I've always liked you more then other toms," I say quickly, hoping to make this brief. But once the words come, they don't stop. "But I never thought of myself as a kind of she-cat who needed a tom. I thought that I could do everything myself, that I didn't need to rely on everyone. I looked down on 'saps' who fell for romance. And then I met you, and everything you did was so perfect and pure... and I couldn't help it. I was falling for you." "Still I wouldn't believe it. I tried to pretend we were just friends. That that was all it was. But I can't deny it any longer." I take a step closer. "I need you in my life. That is... if you'll have me." I wait there in the silence, hoping that it isn't too late, that I haven't botched the only chance I'll ever get at true love. Because there can only ever be one tom for me. I know that now. And he's standing right in front of me, holding my heart in his paws. What will he do with it? Slowly, a smile blooms across Firestrike's face. With it, an idiotic grin spreads across my own face, as if on instinct alone. "Beechwhisker," he says softly. "Don't ever even think I could stop loving you. No matter what you did, I would love you. You mean everything to me. To let you go would be worse then death." And he did it again. Said exactly what I needed to hear. "Oh Firestrike. You're perfect. There's no one else for me but you." I stumble against him, and he holds me up with his strong frame. Burying my face in the softness of his fur, I whisper, "You're perfect, hear me? Perfect. Beautiful." It doesn't take a lot to read my mind right now, but he says the words anyway. I don't mind. I want to hear them, over and over again. We say them together, murmuring against each other's lips. "I love you."
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