Jihad Mahmoud

“His smile is laced with dynamite. "Go to sleep"
"Go to hell."
He works his jaw. Walks to the door. "I'm working on it.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

“But he grins, so brilliantly, not even paying attention. “I love it when you say my name,” he says. “I don’t even know why.”
“Warner isn't your name,” I point out. “Your name is *****.”
His smile is wide, so wide. “God, I love that.”
“Your name?”
“Only when you say it.”
“*****? Or Warner?”
His eyes close. He tilts his head back against the wall. Dimples.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Unravel Me

“She searches me with those odd, blue-green eyes and I feel guilty so suddenly, without understanding why. But there’s something about the way she looks at me that always makes me feel insignificant, as if she’s the only one who’s realized I’m entirely hollow inside. She’s found the cracks in this cast I’m forced to wear every day, and it petrifies me. That this girl would know exactly how to shatter me.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Destroy Me

“But the thought of laying a hand on someone brings back a world of memories, feelings, a flush of power I experience only when I make contact with skin not immune to my own. It's a rush of invincibility; a tormented kind of euphoria; a wave of intensity flooding every pore in my body. I don't know what it will do ti me. I don't know if I can trust myself to take pleasure in someone else's pain.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Unravel Me