His were the kind of eyes that held secrets. The kind that lied without flinching. The kind that once you looked into them, it was hard to break away.
BECCA FITZPATRICKHis were the kind of eyes that held secrets. The kind that lied without flinching. The kind that once you looked into them, it was hard to break away.
BECCA FITZPATRICKYour past wouldnt frighten me, i said, buckling my seat belt across my lap. Im guessing id be more appalled than anything.
BECCA FITZPATRICKYou possess other people’s…Bodies.” he accepted that statement with a nod. “do you want to possess my body?” “i want to do a lot of things to your body, but that’s not one of them.
BECCA FITZPATRICKVee scowled at him. She is famous for that scowl. It’s a look that does everything but audibly hiss.
BECCA FITZPATRICKYour name? I repeated, hoping it was my imagination that my voice faltered. Call me patch. I mean it. Call me
BECCA FITZPATRICKYoure crowding me. I need room…. What i needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again i was proving i couldnt be trusted in patchs presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet i wasnt.
BECCA FITZPATRICKAre you gloating inside? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Getting me to trust you so you could blow it up in my face!” […] “i get that you’re angry,” said patch. “i am ripped apart!” i shouted.
BECCA FITZPATRICKI hung my fingertips on his waistband, tugging him closer. Patch buried his face in the curve of my shoulder, his hands flexing over my back. He gave a low groan. “i love you,” he murmured into my hair. “i’m happier right now than i ever remember being.
BECCA FITZPATRICKMaybe scotty the potty turned into scotty the hottie. Have you thought about that?
BECCA FITZPATRICKAngel… I don’t think you understand the lengths i would go to if it means keeping you here with me.’ -patch (pg 262)
BECCA FITZPATRICKShe cleans a toilet inside and out under a minute. More like terrifying
BECCA FITZPATRICKSometimes bad things have to happen before good things can.
BECCA FITZPATRICKI know you followed me. Don’t look so surprised. It’s called a rearview mirror.
BECCA FITZPATRICKYou didnt tell me she was so soft on the eyes, he said to patch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He spoke with a heavy irish accent. I didnt tell her how hard you are on them either, patch returned, his mouth at the relaxed stage just before a grin.
BECCA FITZPATRICKI cared about us. But the cold hard truth was, nothing i said or did could realign the stars.
BECCA FITZPATRICKWouldn’t have pegged you for a dancer,” he spoke to my mind “funny, i would have pegged you for a stalker,” i shot back.
BECCA FITZPATRICK