Nour

“What are you doing to me, you plague of a girl?” he whispered.
“If I’m a plague, then you should keep your distance, unless you plan on being destroyed.” The weapons still in her grasp, she shoved against his chest.
“No.” His hands dropped to her waist. “Destroy me.”
― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“Lincoln closed his eyes. It seemed like the right thing to do, no matter what happened next. He closed his eyes and felt her fingertips touching his cheek, then his forehead, then his eyelids. He took a breath--ink and hand soap.
"I" -- he heard her whisper, closer than he expected, and shaky and strange -- "think I might be a very stupid girl."
He shook his head no. Just barely. So that only someone who was holding his cheek and his neck would notice.
"Yes," she said, sounding closer. He didn't move, didn't open his eyes. What if he opened his eyes and she saw what she was doing?
She kissed his cheek, and he let his head tip forward into her hands. She kissed his other cheek. And his chin. The groove below his bottom lip. "Stupid girl," she said near the corner of his mouth, sounding incredulous, "what could you possibly be thinking?"
Lincoln found his mouth. "Perfect girl," he said so quietly that only someone with her hands in his hair and her lips all but touching his could possibly hear. "Pretty girl." He found her mouth. "Perfect." Kiss. "Magic." Kiss. "Only girl.”
― Rainbow Rowell, Attachments

“I didn't know someone could love me like this," she said. "Could love me and love me and love me without...needing space."
Lincoln wasn't asleep. He rolled on top of her.
"There's no air in space," he said.”
― Rainbow Rowell, Attachments

“Isn't that what stories do, make real things fake, and fake things real?”
― Marie Rutkoski, The Winner's Curse