ŷ������

“I can’t stay. I have to go train for a while. You can come with me if you want.�� He kisses my nose as I laugh up at him.
“Honey, I don’t run. If you ever see me running, you’d better start running too ‘cause that means that something is chasing me.”
― Kristen Proby, Play with Me

“DAISY:I had sex with Liam.
LAYLA:Is that your idea of a joke? It's too early in the morning.
DAISY:We broke my bed and my desk and my collection of Disney princess teacups.
LAYLA:OMG. I can't even... Are you CRAZY?
DAISY:Maybe.
LAYLA:He's supposed to be your FAKE fiancé.
DAISY:It was just a onetime thing. I'm about to send him home. He's sleeping on my collection of stuffed pigs because there are splinters in my sheets.
LAYLA:What are you going to do when your dad comes home?
DAISY:Tell him I had a nightmare.
LAYLA:I hope it's a nightmare and Sam is going to wake me up and I'll be in my bed not texting you in the middle of the night.
DAISY:It was soooooo goooood.
LAYLA:Stop. You're hurting my eyes.
DAISY:He's waking up.
LAYLA:We need to talk about this. Send him home now. Don't do anything stupid.
DAISY:GTG. He wants MORE!”
― Sara Desai, The Dating Plan

“We should have called truce, he'd said, brushing back his ink-black hair impatiently. We should have called truce long before this.

But neither of us called it, not then, not after.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“The only garnish for the noodles was sesame and spring onions. The two perfect squares of butter on top were already beginning to lose their shape in the clear broth, their outlines blurring messily. Beneath them floated the crinkled noodles with their strong yellow hue. Dissolved in the soup, the butter formed golden circles on its surface. Rika deliberately passed the noodles through those circles on their way to her mouth. The taste of lye water was a little strong, but they weren't badly cooked, and retained their bite. She sipped the soup. Against the faint chicken base of the stock she could detect the flavor of bonito. The broth was hot but it slipped down easily, lubricating her painfully dry throat. Alone, the cheap butter had an overly milky tang, but in combination with the noodles and the soup, its flavor grew golden and staked its territory, with a kind of violence. A certain depth of flavor began to assert itself, and as the droplets plummeted to the centre of her body, its arc of influence expanded. The back of her nose grew hot, and she reached for the tissue box on the counter. Feeling the moisture flowing, she blew her nose loudly. A film of butter was forming across her insides. The hot broth and the hot noodles were more assertive, more forceful than Makoto's warmth and smell. As she raised them to her mouth alternately, Rika's body regained more and more of its heat and softness. She was already warmer than she had been back in the hotel room.”
― Asako Yuzuki, Butter

“It's posh, but there is a kind of freshness to it... not lemony, but..."
"Pennyroyal," said Polly, looking at Guy, who pointed his left forefinger at her as he swung back onto his stool. "Mint. I normally hate mint in anything, but it works here."
"Bang on it. Just a tinge of toothpaste among all the earthy stuff to freshen it up, that was my thought."
"And a very soft rose," said Polly. "I think there's a lot more to come, this is a very quiet beginning for you. What are you calling this one?"
"First Light," said Guy. "I went for rose because they are one of the flowers that smell best in the morning- but not too much, because it's really all about what comes next. Do you like the name? I was going to call it Dawn's Crack, but thought better of it. But what is going to come through next is lots of lovely orris root, which has that musky morning bed smell to me- and it all just said 'waking up in the morning after serious hanky panky', so I went with that. And then there's the idea that you can experience first light after a long night without sleep, which I also like.”
― Maggie Alderson, The Scent Of You

“Holly, what is it?�� he frowned. ‘Darling, tell me what’s wrong? I know we didn’t plan on making love, but it was the most beautiful thing imaginable, so tell me what’s wrong��

She still couldn’t look at him, filled with shame for what she had done. ‘Could you get your clothes on first?��

‘You didn’t say that a moment ago!��

She flushed at his angry taunt. ‘Please,�� she said huskily, knowing by the sound of his movements that he was indeed dressing.

‘Now,�� he barked grimly, ‘what the hell is the matter? Talk to me!��

Holly turned to face him, finding him fully dressed now, his expression harsh in his confusion. She knew it was his hurt that was making him angry with her, and yet she could do nothing to help him, was too busy trying to keep herself from falling apart. ‘This—what just happened, it changes nothing between us,"

-Holly & Zack”
― Carole Mortimer, An Unwilling Desire

“He flicked back the bedcovers and patted the spot beside him. "Come here so I can impress you with how metrosexual I am and spoon you."
"You've impressed me enough," she said, with a coquettish smile, before slipping into bed and pulling up the covers.
"Come here." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled in, terrified by how good this felt but loving it regardless.
"This is nice," he murmured, dropping a kiss on top of her head that made her eyes prickle with tears.”
― Nicola Marsh, The Man Ban

“Sometimes I think the books that affect us most are fantasy books. I don't mean books in the fantasy genre; I don't even mean the books we fantasize about writing but don't write. What I'm thinking of here are the books we know about �� from their titles, from reading reviews, or hearing people talk about them �� but haven't, over a period of time, actually read. Books that can therefore have a presence, or exert a pressure in our lives and thinking, that may have little to do with what's actually inside them.”
― Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick

“The soft glow of the afternoon light fills my apartment, casting a warm embrace over everything it touches. It's 4:30 PM, and the distant hum of the city seeps through the windows, a subtle reminder of life beyond these walls.

Maddie lies beside me with sunlight playing across her skin, turning it into a canvas of peaches and cream. I'm captivated by how the light accentuates her form's softness, the delicate peach fuzz that covers her, and the single white hair amidst my chest hairs that she idly twirls with her fingers.

'We've been lucky this weekend,' I murmur, the words barely a whisper, lost in the moment's tranquility.

She laughs softly, a sound that fills the room with warmth. 'I'm sorry for not being quieter earlier... I hope Mrs. Halverson didn't hear.'

'I shake my head, smiling at the thought of my elderly neighbor. "She's probably out with Mr. Piffles, enjoying the afternoon.'

Reluctantly, I slide out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin. I dress quietly, aware of Maddie's gaze following me. She doesn't say anything, but we both know the weekend is drawing to a close, and reality awaits us.

As I finish getting dressed, Maddie watches me silently. Then, with a playful glint in her eye, she reclines in bed, striking a pose reminiscent of Goya’s La Maja Desnuda. 'Do I compare to Pepita Tudó?' she asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

'You're far prettier,' I assure her, and I mean every word.”
― Alex Diaz-Granados, Reunion: Coda: Book 2 of the Reunion Duology

“The soft glow of the afternoon light fills my apartment, casting a warm embrace over everything it touches. It's 4:30 PM, and the distant hum of the city seeps through the windows, a subtle reminder of life beyond these walls.

Maddie lies beside me with sunlight playing across her skin, turning it into a canvas of peaches and cream. I'm captivated by how the light accentuates her form's softness, the delicate peach fuzz that covers her, and the single white hair amidst my chest hairs that she idly twirls with her fingers.

'We've been lucky this weekend,' I murmur, the words barely a whisper, lost in the moment's tranquility.

She laughs softly, a sound that fills the room with warmth. 'I'm sorry for not being quieter earlier... I hope Mrs. Halverson didn't hear.'

I shake my head, smiling at the thought of my elderly neighbor. "She's probably out with Mr. Piffles, enjoying the afternoon.'

Reluctantly, I slide out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin. I dress quietly, aware of Maddie's gaze following me. She doesn't say anything, but we both know the weekend is drawing to a close, and reality awaits us.

As I finish getting dressed, Maddie watches me silently. Then, with a playful glint in her eye, she reclines in bed, striking a pose reminiscent of Goya’s La Maja Desnuda. 'Do I compare to Pepita Tudó?' she asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

'You're far prettier,' I assure her, and I mean every word.”
― Alex Diaz-Granados, Reunion: Coda: Book 2 of the Reunion Duology