“I can feel his soul through his lips. It's telling me a story of agony over how long it's waited for this moment and how it never wants it to end.”

“I laugh nervously and jerk my hand free, "I want the you that tilts his head back and eats the snow. I want the you that holds me and snuggles into me. I want him, but you hardly ever show him to me. I see a glimpse of him and then it's you that’s back." I point disappointedly. "I want the sweet guy who puts his hand out for me."His eyes fight something. His lips tighten, "He's in here too. I think there are a few of us.”

“He grabs my arm and pulls me into his embrace. I close my eyes and it's perfection. The kiss is needy and desperate even if it's closed mouth. It's the things we don't say. Words like, I needed you more than anything in the entire world and here you are. It's the sentences neither of us can say. Because neither of us likes grand gestures or big words. But the kiss says it all, the desperate tremble of his fearful lips against mine, speak volumes compared to the words we may or may not be able to say.”

“His lips parted, but long years of experience with Ramses, and to some extent, Emerson, had taught me how to turn a conversation into a monologue.”

“Hi" he said"Hi""I'd like to kiss you" He waited a moment for my response, then added, "Or, if you rather, we can dance, as long as we can get you unstuck." "I think I'm in deep.""Me, too," he said, looking into my eyes.His head moved closer to mine. Then he lifted his hand, cupping my cheek ever so gently. His lips touched my lips, light as a butterfly, once, twice.The kisses were so lovely, so lovely I couldn't help it-I did a totally stupid, uncool thing. I sighed.I heard the laughter rumbling inside Nick and I started to pull away. But his arms wrapped around me. He held me close and pressed his lips against mine. A thrill went through me. I kissed him back-I didn't think about it, just kissed him with all that my heart felt.”

“Her hair gives dawn it's fire, her eyes give dusk her soul"He knew how to use his voice to melt a girl's heart, to make a girl want to believe. I steeled myself against the seductive words. "Excuse me?" "It's a line of poetry describing a beautiful girl, one who doesn't seem to know it.”

“He steps forward and kisses my forehead. His breath is soft, devastating warmth on my face. He turns and leaves. He chooses survival over me. It's no different than what I have done. We are both just trying so hard to survive me.”