Florence

“There was no way that I wanted him to stop touching me, even for a few hours. My pulse thudded as I glanced across at the camp bed. I cleared my throat. "Wel...is there a reason we can't both take the bed? The sleeping bags zip together, don't they?" Alex stared at me without moving. "Would that be OK?" I asked, feeling nervous suddenly.

The lantern light made his eyes look darker, his hair almost black. He started to smile, a grin spreading across his face. "Yes, that would be extremely OK.”
― L.A. Weatherly, Angel

“His hands as he worked were deft and sure, but so gentle -- he was being careful not to hurt me any more than he had to. I sat very still, hardly daring to move.

I was in love with him.

The knowledge swept through me, truer than anything I'd ever known. Oh, my God, I was in love with him.”
― L. A. Weatherly

“Alex gazed at her. Her mouth was slightly open; she ran her fingernail against her lower teeth as she thought. She'd knotted her hair at the nape of her neck again, and a strand had slipped loose onto her shoulder, gleaming in the lantern light. Suddenly all of his objections seemed meaningless. Don't, he thought. You'll regret it.

He didn't care anymore.

Slowly, unable to stop himself, he reached out and cupped his hand around her foot.”
― L. A. Weatherly, Angel Burn

“She felt so human that he could barely carry on a conversation.”
― L.A. Weatherly, Angel