Bella

“The Great and Tragic Love of Jonathan Shadowhunter and David the Silent, by Clary Fray, Aged 17.
SIMON IT WAS BY SIMON NOT ME

(...) Jonathan Shadowhunter: Oh, David, I would trust you with my life!
David: Oh, Jonathan, I would sacrifice my own life for your holy mission! (He almost does)
Jonathan: (weeping) David, you must return to me! I need you! I cannot do this thing without you!
David: Lo, I return!
Jonathan: Zounds! I feel a great stirring in my pantaloons!
David: What doth thy pantalo
SIMON I WILL KILL YOU”
― Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter's Codex

“You’re a heartbreaker, Isabelle Lightwood,” he said, as lightly as he could with her blood still running through him like fire. “Jace told Clary once you’d walk all over me in high-heeled boots.”
“That was then. You’re different now.” She eyed him.
“You’re not scared of me.”
He touched her face. “A nd you’re not scared of anything.”
“I don’t know.” Her hair fell forward. “Maybe you’ll b r eak my heart.” Before he could say anything, she kissed him, and he wondered if she could taste her own blood. “Now shut up. I want to sleep,” she said, and she curled up against his side and closed her eyes.
Somehow, now, they fit, where they hadn’t before.
Nothing was awkward, or poking into him, or banging against his leg. It didn’t feel like childhood and sunlight and gentleness. It felt strange and heated and exciting and powerful and… different. Simon lay awake, his eyes on the ceiling, his hand stroking Isabelle’s silky black hair absently. He felt like he’d been caught up in a tornado and deposited somewhere very far away, where nothing was familiar. Eventually he turned his head and kissed Izzy, very lightly, on the forehead; she stirred and murmured but didn’t open her eyes.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls