Marisa

“Sam smiled, his brown eyes turning golden in the dawn. It was such a Sam look, the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation, the kindness that would always, always make him a better person than she was.

Before she knew what she was doing, Celaena threw her arms around him and held him close. Sam stiffened, but after a heartbeat, his arms came around her. She breathed him in—the smell of his sweat, the tang of the dust and rock, the metallic odor of his blood... Sam rested his cheek on her head. She couldn't remember —honestly couldn't recall—the last time anyone had held her. But embracing Sam was different, somehow. Like she wanted to curl into his warmth, like for one moment, she didn't have to worry about anything or anybody.

“Sam,” she murmured into his chest.

“Hmm?”

She peeled away from him, stepping out of his arms. “If you ever tell anyone about me embracing you... I'll gut you.”
― Sarah J. Maas, The Assassin's Blade

“I claim you, Rowan Whitethorn. I don't care what you say and how much you protest. I claim you as my friend.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“When someone's been gone a long time, at first you save up all the things you want to tell them. You try to keep track of everything in your head. But it's like trying to hold on to a fistful of sand: all the little bits slip out of your hands, and then you're just clutching air and grit.”
― Jenny Han, To All the Boys I've Loved Before

“Their hands clasped between them, he whispered into her ear, "I claim you, too, Aelin Galathynius.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire