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I folded myself against her body, breathing in the smell of my new life and matching my heartbeat to hers Sam, Linger

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Linger
Matching
Heartbeat
Breathing
Smell
Body
Life
Folded

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I tired the back door -- unlocked. Truley the Man Upstairs was smiling down on me.
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She breathed. This is lovely. It was for Adam, not Gansey, but she saw Gansey glance over his shoulder at her.
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I guess now would be a good time to tell you, He said. I took Chainsaw out of my dreams.
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You're getting your weird all over me.
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I found it. People find pennies, Gansey replied. Or car keys. Or four-leaf clovers. And ravens, Ronan said. You're just jealous 'cause - at this point, he had to stop to regroup his beer-sluggish thoughts - you didn't find one, too.
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You're the nicest boy ever,, I told him, feeling undeserving and terrible. You didn't have to get me anything. I like thinking about you thinking about me when I'm not around.
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She kissed me harder, breath huffing into my mouth, and bit my lip. Oh, hell that was amazing. I growled before I could stop myself.
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There was something awful about terror trapped behind silence. About latent emotions that couldn't be acted out. Cole's thoughts on page 248 of Linger.
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she waited to change , and i waited to change , and we both wanted what we couldn't have
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More than anything, the journal wanted. It wanted more than it could hold, more than words could describe, more than diagrams could illustrate. Longing burst from the pages, in every frantic line and every hectic sketch and every dark-printed definition. There was something pained and melancholy about it.
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It was exactly what I wanted-beautiful distraction.
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It occurred to me that there was a story behind the scar -- maybe not as dramatic as the story of my wrists, but a story nonetheless -- and the fact that everyone had a story behind some mark on their inside or outside suddenly exhausted me, the gravity of all those untold pasts.
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I considered calling Grace to ask her what I should say to a reticent suicidal werewolf, but I'd left my phone somewhere. Car, maybe.
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whoopdie-friggin-doo, fooled you!
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I watched her and I watched the birds' shadows flit across her face, and I...wanted. I wanted more happy memories to hang up on the ceiling, so many happy memories with this girl that they would crowd the ceiling and flap out into the hall and burst out of the house.
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Not all. Some of them he probably lectured to death.
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Thery're both iron, isn't that funny? Funny haha or funny strange? James handed them back to me Funny 'occult' Ah. Funny strange James looked at me sternly, Don't start that. I'm supposed to be the humorous one
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I hear laughter and someone asks if I need help, not in a nice way. I snarl, What I need is for your mother to have thought a little harder nine months before your birthday.
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The world needs more love at first sight.
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What were you thinking about? When I came in? Being Sam, I said. What a nice thing to be, Grace said. And then she smiled, bigger and bigger, until I felt my expression mirror hers, our noses touching.
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