She looked up at him with a smile. The smile broke what was left of his resistance - shattered it. He had let the walls down when he'd thought she was gone, and there was no time to build them back up. Helplessly he pulled her against him. For a moment she clung to him tightly, warm and alive in his arms. Her hair brushed his cheek. The color had come back into the world; he could breathe again, and for that moment he breathed her in - she smelled of salt, blood, tears, and Tessa.
Cassandra ClareMagnus shrugged. "He also made inappropriate amorous advances to a startled grandmotherly sort selling flowers, an Irish wolfhound, and innocent hat stand in a dwelling he broke into, and myself.
Cassandra ClareTessa had begun to tremble. This is what she had always wanted someone to say. What she had always, in the darkest corner of her heart, wanted Will to say. Will, the boy who loved the same books she did, the same poetry she did, who made her laugh even when she was furious. And here he was standing in front of her, telling her he loved the words of her heart, the shape of her soul. Telling her something she had never imagined anyone would ever tell her. Telling her something she would never be told again, not in this way. And not by him. And it did not matter. "It's too late", she said.
Cassandra ClareHenry patted Charlotteโs shoulder anxiously. โWould you like a cool cloth? What can I do to help?โ โYou could ride up to Yorkshire and chop that old goatโs head off.โ Charlotte sounded mutinous. โWonโt that make things rather awkward with the Clave?โ asked Henry. โTheyโre not generally very receptive about, you know, beheadings and things.
Cassandra Clare