Hannah

“Just then Patch ambled through the front door. I did a double take to make it was really him. I hadn't expected him to come. We'd never resolved our fight, and I'd pridefully refused to take the first step, forcing myself to lock my cell phone in a drawer every time I was tempted to call him and apologize, despite my increasing distress that he might never call either. My pride immediately turned to relief at the sight of him. I hated fighting. I hated not having him close. If he was ready to mend this, so was I.A smile flickered across my face at the sight of his costume; black jeans, black t-shirt, black face mask. The latter concealed all but his cool, assessing gaze.

"There's my date," I said. "Fashionably late.”
― becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Nice costume," he said.

"Ditto. I can tell you put alot of though into yours."

Amusement curled his mouth. "If you don't like it, I can take it off."

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "That just might be the best proposal I've had all night."

"My offers are always the best, Angel.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Patch's eyes grazed me with silent heat. My reflection swirled in them, red hair and lips aflame. I was connected to him by a force I couldn't control, a tiny thread that tethered my soul to his. With the moon at his back, shadows painted the faint hollows beneath his eyes and cheekbones, making him look breathtakingly handsome and equally diabolical. His hands steadied my face, holding me still before him. The wind tangled my hair around his wrists, twining us together. His thumbs moved across my cheekbones in a slow, intimate caress. Despite the cold, a steady burn coiled up inside me, vulnerable to his touch. His fingers traced lower, lower, leaving behind a hot, delicious ache. I closed my eyes, my joints melting. He lit me up like a flame, light and heat burning at a depth I'd never fathomed. His thumb stroked my lip, a soft, seductive tease. I gave a sharp sigh of pleasure.

"Kiss you now?" he asked.

I couldn't speak; a wilted no was my reply.

His mouth, hot and daring, met mine. All play had left him, and he kissed me with his own black fire, deep and possessive, consuming my body, my soul, and laying waste to all past notions of what it meant to be kissed.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Patch backed me into a tree and kissed me, hard.
I regained my breath. "Boys take not everywhere: That was a kiss.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale