The way you move โ you orient yourself around him without even thinking about it. When he moves, even a little bit, you adjust your position at the same time. Like magnetsโฆ or gravity. Youโre like aโฆ satellite, or something.
Stephenie MeyerCan't you just thank me and get over it?" "Thank you." I waited, fuming and expectant. "You're not going to let it go, are you?" "No." "In that case . . . I hope you enjoy disappointment." We scowled at each other in silence. I was the first to speak, trying to keep myself focused. I was in danger of being distracted by his livid, glorious face. It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel. "Why did you even bother?" I asked frigidly. He paused, and for a brief moment his stunning face was unexpectedly vulnerable. "I don't know," he whispered.
Stephenie Meyer