Aya Henry

“I don’t care that you don’t want anyone to look after you. I want to look after you. I want to be with you, Maci. I want to see where the road takes us together, and I want to hold your fucking hand, whether it’s shaking or not. Do you understand?”
― Cherie M. Hudson, Unconditional

“I used to be really pretty,” I whispered, sharing the secret. “See? I used—”
“There is no ‘used’ to be.” He snatched the frame out of my hand, and my mouth dropped open as he tossed it. The photo whizzed through the air, bouncing off a cushion and landing harmlessly on the couch. “You’re really fucking pretty now.”
― J. Lynn, Stay with Me

“And you are so obviously not Dean Winchester.”
― J. Lynn, Fall with Me

“You cannot let anyone know what you are.”

“Gee. Really? I was thinking about updating my Facebook to halfling status.”

He cocked his blondish-white head to the side. “You don’t have a Facebook, Ivy.”

I sighed.

Tink continued, because of course. “I looked for you. Wanted to add you as my friend so I could poke you, and I know people don’t poke anymore, but I think poking is a great way to express how one—”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Torn