“What?" he asked."Nothing. Your bony hands of death amuse me, that's all.""Wait until yours look the same," he said, preparing to scythe."Wait - what?" She batted the sapphire blade out of his hands. "What do you mean? Is that why everyone around here has such creepy fingers?""Yeah." He bent down to pick up his scythe. "I don't know why it happens, though. Probably the same weird reason our hair goes all wonky.""What?" she barked, knocking his scythe to the ground once more."Stop that!""What happens to our hair?"He gestured to the disaster atop his head. "You think I want to look like a drunken hedgehog all the time? It's from hanging out in the ether so much. It messes with your follicles or something. Doesn't happen to everyone, but I can assure you that Ferbus's wasn't always the color of a prison jumpsuit, Zara wasn't born Silvylocks, and Mort's been rocking the electrocution look for years. Look, yours has gotten straighter already."Lex ran a hand through her hair. It had lost some of its poofyness. There had been so many other circuses of insanity to deal with that she hadn't even noticed. It was calm, manageable, even - she shuddered to think it - sleek and shiny."Oh my God," she said in disgust. "I'm a shampoo commercial.”

“Hey!" Lauren Moffat's voice, sounding noticeably irritated, floated up to us. "What-ew! What's in my hair?"We all three ducked beneath our table so Lauren couldn't see us if she realized what was happening and looked up. I could see her between the slits of the fencing around the balcony, but I knew she couldn't see me. She was shaking out her hair. Becca, crouching across from me, had to put her hands across her mouth to keep from giggling. Jason looked like he was about to pee in his pants, he was trying so hard not to laugh.What's the matter, babe?" Mark came out from beneath the balcony, putting his wallet into his back pocket.There's something--sand or something-in my hair," Lauren said, still fluffing out her hair-which you could tell she didn't want to do, since she flat-ironed it so straight.Mark leaned in closer to examine Lauren's hair. "Looks okay to me," he said. Which just made us laugh harder, until tears were streaming out of the corners of our eyes.”

“Why have you done all this for me?" She turned her head to look at him. "Tell me the truth."He shook his head slowly."I don't think I could have been more terrified of the devil than I was of you," she said, "when it was happening and in my thoughts and nightmares afterward. And when you came home to Willoughby and I realized that the Duke of Ridgeway was you, I thought I would die from the horror of it."His face was expressionless. "I know," he said."I was afraid of your hands more than anything," she said. "They are beautiful hands."He said nothing."When did it all change?" she asked. She turned completely toward him and closed the distance between them. "You will not say the words yourself. But they are the same words as the ones on my lips, aren't they?"She watched him swallow."For the rest of my life I will regret saying them," she said. "But I believe I would regret far more not saying them.""Fleur," he said, and reached out a staying hand."I love you," she said."No.""I love you.""It is just that we have spent a few days together," he said, "and talked a great deal and got to know each other. It is just that I have been able to help you a little and you are feeling grateful to me.""I love you," she said."Fleur."She reached up to touch his scar. "I am glad I did not know you before this happened," she said. "I do not believe I would have been able to stand the pain.""Fleur," he said, taking her wrist in his hand."Are you crying?" she said. She lifted both arms and wrapped them about his neck and laid her cheek against his shoulder. "Don't, my love. I did not mean to lay a burden on you. I don't mean to do so. I only want you to know that you are loved and always will be.""Fleur," he said, his voice husky from his tears, "I have nothing to offer you, my love. I have nothing to give you. My loyalty is given elsewhere. I didn't want this to happen. I don't want it to happen. You will meet someone else. When I am gone you will forget and you will be happy."She lifted her head and looked into his face. She wiped away one of his tears with one finger. "I am not asking anything in return," she said. "I just want to give you something, Adam. A free gift. My love. Not a burden, but a gift. To take with you when you go, even though we will never see each other again."He framed her face with his hands and gazed down into it. "I so very nearly did not recognize you," he said. "You were so wretchedly thin, Fleur, and pale. Your lips were dry and cracked, your hair dull and lifeless. But I did know you for all that. I think I would still be in London searching for you if you had not gone to that agency. But it's too late, love. Six years too late.”

“Look what just happened,’ she said softly, allowing laughter to leak into her words. ‘You just shared something of yourself—and the world did not end. Nor did I fall hopelessly at your feet.’‘Why do you bother, then?’ he asked hoarsely.She stroked a hand in his hair. ‘Because I want you to know that it is possible.”

“What do you want?"To know you," she said without hesitation. "All of you. I want to know what makes you feel good.""Your laughter," he said without hesitation. "Feeling your hands on me. The way you look at me, whether I've been a complete dumbass, or just made you come-"With a laugh, she ducked her head, but he dipped his down until she was looking at him again. "You want to know what scared me?" he asked. "Yes"He leaned even closer and slid a hand to the nape of her neck. "The thought of never having those things with you again."-Chloe and Sawyer (Head over Heels)”

“I'm not sure I even believe in marriage," Hadley says and he looks surprised."Aren't you on your way to a wedding?""Yeah," she says with a nod. "But that's what I mean."He looks at her blankly."It shouldn't be this big fuss, where you drag everyone halfway across the world to witness your love. If you want to share your life together, fine. But it's between two people, and that should be enough. Why the big show? Why rub it in everyone's faces?"Oliver runs a hand along his jaw, obviously not quite sure what to think. "It sounds like its weddings you don't believe in," he says finally. "Not marriage.""I'm not such a big fan of either at the moment.""I don't know," he says. "I think they're kind of nice.""They're not," she insists. "They're all for show. You shouldn't need to prove anything if you really mean it. It should be a whole lot simpler than that. It should mean something.""I think it does," Oliver says quietly. "It's a promise.""I guess so," she says, unable to keep the sigh out of her voice. "But not everyone keeps that promise." she looks over toward the woman, still fast asleep. "Not everyone makes it fifty-two years, and if you do, it doesn't matter that you once stood in front of all those people and said that you would. The important part is that you had someone to stick by you all that time. Even when everything sucked.”