Julia

“What did Adam's fortune cookie say?"
"Mmm." Olive made a show to look at the strip. "Not much. Just 'Holden Rodrigues, Ph.D., is a loser.'" Malcolm sped up just as Holden flipped her off, making her burst into laughter.
"What does it really say?" Adam asked when they were finally alone.
Olive handed him the crumpled paper and remained silent as he angled it to read it in the lamplight. She wasn't surprised when she saw a muscle jump in his jaw, or when he slid the fortune into the pocket of his jeans. She knew what it said, after all.
You can fall in love: someone will catch you.”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“Pretty fucking tragic twist of fate, but you don’t seem to remember that we first met years ago. An issue, since I remember a little too well. I like no one, absolutely no one, but I liked you from the start. I liked you when I didn’t know you, and now that I do know you it’s only gotten worse. Sometimes, often, always, I think about you before falling asleep. Then I dream of you, and when I wake up my head’s still there, stuck on something funny, beautiful, filthy, intelligent that’s all about you. It’s been going on for a while, longer than you think, longer than you can imagine, and I should have told you, but I have this impression, this certainty that you’re half a second from running away, that I should give you enough reasons to stay. Is there anything I can do for you? I’ll take you grocery shopping and fill your fridge when we’re back home. Buy you a new bike and a case of decent reagent and that sludge you drink. Kill the people who made you cry. Is there something you need? Name it. It’s yours. If I have it, it’s yours.”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“I'm starting to wonder if this is what being in love is. Being okay with ripping yourself to shreds, so the other person can stay whole.”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“It's almost out," the witch hissed, grunting with effort. "Hang on, Bryce."
She did. To Hunt, to his hand, to that softness in his eyes, she held on. With all she had.
"I've got you," he murmured. "Sweetheart, I've got you."
He'd never said it like that before- that word. It had always been mocking, teasing. She'd always found it just this side of annoying.
Not this time. Not when he held her hand and her gaze and everything she was. Riding out the pain with her.
"Breathe," he ordered her. "You can do it. We can get through this."
Get through it- together. Get through this mess of a life together. Through this mess of a world.”
― Sarah J. Maas, House of Earth and Blood