Olivia

“There's only one thing I know for certain anymore." He turned, his eyes a clear black. "That I would do anything for you, even if it means going against my instincts or my very nature. I would lay down everything I possess, even my soul, for you. If that isn't love, it's the best I have.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Silence

“...He kissed me again, farther up my neck, and I pushed him back against the wall.

My mind searched for the logical thought, a rational life raft before I drowned in wanting to hiss him. I managed, "We've only met a few days ago. We don't know each other."

Luke released me. "How long does it take to know someone?"

I didn't know. "A month? A few months?" It sounded stupid to quantify it, especially when I didn't want to believe my own reasoning. But I couldn't just go kissing someone I knew nothing about-- it went against everything I'd ever been told. So why was it so hard to say no?

He took my fingers, playing with them in between his own. "I'll wait." He looked so good in the half-light under the trees, his light eyes nearly glowing against his shadowed skin. It was useless.

"I don't want you to." I whispered the words, and before I'd even finished saying them, his mouth was on mine and I was melting under his lips.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception

“This is where you belong, Calla.” He pulled me closer, tilting my chin up. “Be with me. Tell me it’s what you want.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. “What I want?”
“Yes. Anything, everything you need, I’ll give you. Always. I promise. Just tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“That you want this, us.” His voice dropped so low I could barely hear him. “That someday you’ll love me.”
My hands began to tremble where they rested around his neck. “Ren, you know we’re going to be together. We’ve both known that for a long time.”
He gave me a hard look. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Why are you asking me this?” I tried to pull back, but he held me against him.
The glimmer of a smile appeared on his lips. “Why not?”
My temper flared. “Are you trying to say that you love me?”
I meant it as a challenge rather than a serious question, but his eyes seemed to catch fire.
“What do you think?” He touched his lips to mine, softly at first, gradually building pressure, parting them.”
― Andrea Cremer, Nightshade

“I'm sorry," he says.
"What? Why?"
"You're fixing everything I set down." He nods at my hands, which are readjusting the elephant. "It wasn't polite of me to come in and start touching your things."
"Oh, it's okay," I say quickly, letting go of the figurine. "You can touch anything of mine you want."
He freezes. A funny look runs across his face before I realize what I've said. I didn't mean it like that.
Not that that would be so bad.”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss