Quotes about cute-moment

He stares at me—taking me in—with his lips slightly parted. I struggle to hold myself in place as we gawk at each other. I want so desperately to run, but something is holding me back, keeping me in place.

Um, you don’t have to join me, but if you’re looking for a table, there are a couple good seats over there.” He nodded toward the far end.

My name is Kyran. You look like an honorable woman,” he whispered, practicing what he would say to any prospective mate. “I have a home with my parents and my brother. There we will live and you will be part of our family. Would you like to give me many children?

was starting to raise my hand in a thumbs-down gesture, so he said, “Okay, okay! If we don’t drink blood, we look really pale. Regardless of our ethnicity or geographic location or exposure to the sun. And we feel cold to the touch.” He paused and looked down at me in exasperation. “I am seriously trying here. Every instinct I have is telling me to use polysyllabic words to impress you.

Roses are read, violets are blue; I'm using my hand, but I'm thinking of you.

I looked to the sitting room then and gaped at Alec's body lying across my sofa making it look smaller than it was. He was reading something.A book."What are you readin'?" I curiously asked."That porn book we were talking about earlier at my house. This dude is my God! He just fucked this Ana chick while she was on her period.""Stop it!" I screeched. "Stop readin' and put the bloody book down!"He was reading Fifty Shades of Grey.I was both horrified and mortified.Alec got up from the sofa, place

I do what the voices in my underwear tell me to do."Wait, what?"You mean the voices in your head?"Alec smirked. "Yeah, the voices in my head."I furrowed my eyebrows together and stared at him.Why was he smirking at me?He was confusing me.Wait.Voices in his underwear.In his head.The head in his underwear.I gasped. "You dirty bastard!

Heya, Arlene. What’s shakin’?” Cotton greeted.“Don’t shift some of this weight, everything,” Arlene replied.

I’ll miss you as well.” He glanced at her breasts. “So much.”She laughed. “Hurry back to me then.

I realized then that both Gladys and Norm were smiling at about the time I realized that Max and I were acting like lunatics.“I don’t think she’s tied up in knots anymore, Gladie,” Norm observed.“She is, dear, just not ones she wants to untie,” Gladys remarked.

Good shot.”“Not really. I was aiming for his balls.

Close your eyes and relax. One kiss. I don’t bite.” His hand brushed her cheek. “At least not hard.”“That’s a joke, right? Because I have proof you do bite hard.

Then her imagination ran away with her. In Beckit’s head, her super-hot former stalker was just about to kiss all of her sorrows away.In real life, he was simply removing a small glop of toothpaste that had ended up on the outside of Beckit’s mouth.Nice. Wonderful. Faaantastic.Beckit cringed inside as her embarrassment was rivaled only by her newfound hatred for wandering fluoride.

You just seem so sad,” I said, dialing voice mail. “Like someone stole your favorite nine millimeter.”“I’m not sad.” He started down the hall, then turned back. “Least not when I look at you.”.

And I like the light-up.”“The what?”“The light-up,” he’d say. “You know, that look people get when they finally realize you’re for real. It’s like electricity. It makes me tingle all over. Like a blanket full of static.”Ew. “Really? I’ve never heard that.”“Yeah, and I like it when people realize we’re out here.”I leaned in close once and asked him, “Do you want your mom to realize you’re out here? Do you want her to know?”“Nah. It took her too long to get over me.”All in all, he was a good kid.

We’re going down to the Margarita Grill to smell the lobster, then we’re going to watch the sunrise, and in between we’ll probably have hot, unsafe animal sex.

The hours tick by as I lie in bed.Memories keep surfacing, tormenting me into unbelievable sadness. I can't bring myself to move. I can't fight the memories that keep filling my thoughts. I stay curled in the fetal position as each memory plays out. I can't stop them from coming. I can't make them go away. Nothing can distract me. I can't block the memories, so they continue to come.

I'm being pulled under - father and farther from the surface. My lungs continue to scream for air. Panic is building inside me, threatening to combust. I can't break free.Help! I can't break free!I open my mouth to scream.

One of his hands move away from my face to flatten against my back, pulling me closer to him as he deepens the kiss. He parts my lips under his as my mind seems to sign quietly in content. I kiss him back as fiercely as he kisses me, unable to control the infatuation that rushes through me - feeling almost like fireworks. Not so careful anymore.Little shivers of urgency shoot through me. I push off the window, pressing closer to him. The rush of sensation that is coursing through me feels like I

Night has settled over Paris.The streets have cleared of the crowds, and the city has been lit up. I set my book down, deciding to go for a walk. The Eiffel Tower is only a few blocks away. Now that there aren't many people out, I can walk there without having to fight my way through mobs of gawking tourists.

He drinks his coffee tentatively, glancing at me every few seconds, watching me. Every time he glances in my direction, I quickly turn away though he obviously knows I'm watching him. I know he's wondering why I'm staring at him, but he doesn't ask.I finally take a sip of coffee, set the mug back on the table, and voice what's on my mind, "I want to draw you.

He stares at me—taking me in—with his lips slightly parted. I struggle to hold myself in place as we gawk at each other. I want so desperately to run, but something is holding me back, keeping me in place.

Every gesture and every look he gives me takes me by surprise and causes my heart to stutter.

I freeze, my feet suddenly glued to the floor. It takes me a minute to gather the courage to turn around, but when I do, I immediately wish I hadn't. The boy is standing in the doorway at the end of the hall.Why is he here again? I barely allow myself time to ask the question before I move. Panicked, I turn and run back downstairs as fast as I can."Hey! Wait!" he calls after me.I don't stop.

I grab the nearest lamppost when my knees threaten to give out, panting for breath as the words rip through me

I take in all the colorful locks that line the bridge. Each one told a story. Each lock represented a relationship that was once special, whether it ended or turned into true happiness. The locks represented a past, present, and a possible future.

When we step onto the bridge, Nathan turns and spreads his arms out wide. ‘Welcome to Pont des Arts, a.k.a. The Lock Bridge.

The boy took my sketchbook.

I head in the direction of the Eiffel Tower when I exit the alley, relieved to be out of the dark.

He smirks, shaking his head and letting his eyes wander. I watch him carefully, wondering what I can say to get him to leave. “I’m not leaving until you answer some questions. Plus, I’m holding your sketchbook hostage, so you might want to cooperate.” I raise an eyebrow at him. I guess there isn’t much I can say. “This isn’t a hostage negotiation.” He chuckles half-heartedly as his eyes take me in, almost sizing me up. “I guess I should introduce myself.” He holds a hand out for me to shake. “I’

Beautiful is sick, so we’re here to smother her back to health.