Melanie Holzer > Recent Status Updates

there’s a tick in his cheek as he clenches his teeth that tells me he’s just as affected by this closeness as i am and suddenly this entire situation feels dangerous to me.

i don’t care about that shit, sage. i care about all of the other qualities you have that make you the best possible friend for me.

**she proceeds to list all these cute reasons, but there isn’t enough available space for me to add them in here.**
my favorite one:

i care that when i grab notes in classes when you’ve skipped them, you thank me like i’ve conquered a kingdom for you.

there’s something about gryphon that might break me.

… the tactical team left behind a pair of leather ankle boots that were the greatest thrift shop find of my life. i refuse to admit how much that loss hurts me.
there may be tears.

‘why didn’t you tell me?’
‘i didn’t think he’d deny you like this.’
‘really? because i’ve know the man for a handful of minutes, and none of this surprises me.’
‘i wanted to tell you, calla, i did, but…’
‘but?’
‘i’ve always felt protective of you and i worried -‘
‘well, you’ve done a great job protecting me. i didn’t need a protector, grae. what i needed was a friend.’

this will be the last time i would ever stand here. i tried to remember every detail, every scent and sound, pressing each sense into my memory so i could hold onto them.

i loved the way he whispered my name, wished i could hear the resonance of that sound every day of my life.

holy hell!! the entire oath-taking ceremony!

these talons are sooo hot!

‘you can’t keep running from yourself,’ the other girl whispered, voice fading. ‘no matter what choice you end up making. no matter where you go - you will always be there.’

.. from the moment he had first laid eyes on her, he’d known beyond a doubt, that wren loughty would become the immovable force that would redirect the trajectory of his life forever.

chapter 38
weston: if i could build you a boyfriend at build a bear it would be ford grant

i could only imagine that the great hendrix was resting his massive head on plush pillows of his own. no doubt maintaining such an alarmingly over-inflated ego was hard work and he’d exhausted himself in hauling it around so much at dinner that he would sleep on for hours.

… the stains of my childhood in each corner and crevice.

i didn’t grace her with any words, just turned on my heel and ran as far as i could. you know in a totally dignified, royal way.

all i knew was that my body pressed into hers like she was the cure for my terminal illness and the only way to administer the drug was to be inside her.

he leaned over and brushed his lips against mine.
oh.god.
holy.shitballs.on.a.cracker. pussy down. pussy down!

he never did deserve you. besides, you can’t be in a relationship where you have to direct the other person on basics. imagine that in bed. ‘to the left, to the left!’ sex is not a beyonce song. unless it’s ‘drunk in love’. that’s different.

i smiled a sad smile.
what good would waltzing do me if i have no husband to dance with?

i stared at the man across the table and realized that i was falling in love with him. as with every fall, once you lost your balance, crashing was a matter of when, not if.

the women who raised me had a very specific idea for what constituted a good woman.
a good woman dressed modestly, spoke quietly, and didn’t hold a job.

i want to touch you, taste you, memorize your soul…

‘i’m not sure what type of man you are,’ i say honestly. ‘for all i know, you’re a cannibalistic monster who collects toenail clippings in an enchanted jar.’

every time i start to think that bastard might have a heart, he proves me wrong.

‘did the one brain cell you were born with die of loneliness?’

‘i wish you could hear how hard i’m rolling my eyes right now.’

i don’t know what kind of drug this man uses as a mouthwash, but it’s powerful. the moment our lips touch, my logical brain blinks offline in a sudden fir of narcolepsy, and all my nerve endings wake up and burst into flames.

if there were a best in show for penises, his would win.

he muses, ‘do you think it’s fate that we keep meeting this way?’
‘no, i think i did something terrible in a past life, and you’re the punishment. please go back to your own table.’

after a hot, lingering glance at my mouth, ronan turns abruptly and walks off into the night, his stride long and sure. he doesn’t look back.
i’ll never forgive myself for wishing he would.