Lily Faurest

“And I'm not wearing pink." He frowned in confusion. "Huh?" "Pink to make the boys wink," I clarified, feeling smug at tripping him up in this little game we seemed to be playing. "I'm wearing blue, not pink. No need to wink at me." With a devilish grin etched on his face, Johnny leaned into my ear and whispered, "I reckon I can make those pretty cheeks of yours turn pink.”
― Chloe Walsh, Binding 13

“Oh my God, are you trying to get citizenship? Are they deporting you back to Canada because we’ve been sharing Malcolm’s Netflix password? Tell them we didn’t know it was a federal crime. No, wait, don’t tell them anything until we get you a lawyer. And, Ol, I will marry you. I’ll get you a green card and you won’t have to—”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“I don't care about what you think of me, I don't think about you at all.”
― Coco Chanel

“Well, shite." Johnny was smiling now. "You're a sarcastic little thing when you want to be, aren't you?" Feeling a sudden burst of playfulness, I shrugged and said, "I know you are but what am I?" "Now you're being a messer." "I know you are but what am I?" I repeated, smirking. "Sticks and stones will break my bones," he quipped, playing along now. "But girls will never hurt me." "It's words will never hurt me," I corrected, finding myself mirroring his smile. "Not girls." "Not in my world," he replied with a low chuckle. "Liar, liar," I spurted, "Your pants are on fire.”
― Chloe Walsh, Binding 13