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I 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 Fitzpatrick

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I Hung My Fingertips On His Waistband,

Becca Fitzpatrick

I 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.

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    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"i 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. &quot;i love you,&quot; he murmured into my hair. &quot;i&amp;#039;m happier right now than i ever remember being."</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— Becca Fitzpatrick</footer>
    <p style="margin-top: 15px; font-size: 0.85rem;"><a href="https://pjdigitalmarketing.com/quote/i-hung-my-fingertips-on-his-waistband-tugging-him-closer-patch-buried-1mke2" style="color: #8b5cf6; text-decoration: none;">View this quote on Pjdigitalmarketing.com</a></p>
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Love You Curves Hair

More From Becca Fitzpatrick

We all know of course, that we should never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever fiddle around in any way with electrical equipment. never.

Does patch have a restraining order against him?' he read. 'is patch a felon?' 'give-me-that!' i hissed furiously. patch gave a soft laugh, and i knew he'd seen the next question. 'does patch have a girlfriend?

But instead of taking the cue to leave, patch crossed to scott in three steps. he flung him around to face the wall. scott tried to get his bearings, but patch slammed him against the wall again, disorienting him further. “touch her,” he said in scott’s ear, his voice low and threatening, “and it’ll be the biggest regret of your life.” before leaving, patch flicked his eyes once in my direction. “he’s not worth it.” he paused. “and neither am i.

One morning, in cool blood, i slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; — hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; — hung it because i knew that it had loved me, and because i felt it had given me no reason of offence; — hung it because i knew that in so doing i was committing a sin — a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it — if such a thing were possible — even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the most merciful and most terrible god.

I study her,” patch said. “i figure out what she’s thinking and feeling. she’s not going to come right out and tell me, which is why i have to pay attention. does she turn her body toward mine? does she hold my eyes, then look away? does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way nora is doing right now?” laughter rose in the room. i dropped my hands to my lap. “she’s game,” said patch, bumping my leg again. of all things, i blushed.

I shook my head. “i don’t think so. this isn’t a good idea. this isn’t right.” “there’s all kinds of right,” he murmured. “on the spectrum, we’re still in the safe zone.” ... “definitely right. usually right,” patch continued. “mostly right. maybe right.

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