He raises his hand to my face again and I allow the touch. His fingers slide along my jawline and the warmth of his caresses radiates past my skin and into my bloodstream. Pleasing goose bumps rise on my neck. he asks. My ears ring with the staccato thrum, thrum, thrum of my heart. Holy crap, I can't believe this is happening to me. The words tumble out of my mouth without thought. That's not true. Actually, they tumble out with a lot of thought of how my parents won't approve, of how my brothers will kill Isaiah, then possibly kill me. But in this moment, I don't care what any of them think.
by Katie McGarry
(0 Reviews)

In this passage, the narrator experiences an intense emotional and physical reaction to a moment of intimacy. The touch evokes a strong response, with the warmth from the other person's caress igniting feelings of excitement and fear. The narrator is acutely aware of her heartbeat and is caught between the thrill of the moment and her concerns about family disapproval. Despite these worries, she finds herself lost in the experience, demonstrating a powerful conflict between desire and duty.

This moment captures the essence of youthful romance, highlighting the intoxicating blend of attraction and anxiety. The narrator's thoughts reveal a struggle between the exhilaration of newfound affection and the potential consequences of their feelings. The tension builds as she reflects on her family's possible reactions, yet the sheer intensity of the moment allows her to momentarily disregard those fears. It showcases the complexity of teenage love, where passion often clashes with the realities of parental expectations.

Stats

Categories
Votes
0
Page views
6
Update
February 16, 2025

Rate the Quote

Add Comment & Review

User Reviews

Based on 0 reviews
5 Star
0
4 Star
0
3 Star
0
2 Star
0
1 Star
0
Add Comment & Review
We'll never share your email with anyone else.
More »

Other quotes in Crash into You

More »

Popular quotes

Taffy. He thinks about taffy. He thinks it would take his teeth out now, but he would eat it anyhow, if it meant eating it with her.
by Mitch Albom
Small towns are like metronomes; with the slightest flick, the beat changes.
by Mitch Albom
Look, if you say that science will eventually prove there is no God, on that I must differ. No matter how small they take it back, to a tadpole, to an atom, there is always something they can't explain, something that created it all at the end of the search. And no matter how far they try to go the other way – to extend life, play around with the genes, clone this, clone that, live to one hundred and fifty – at some point, life is over. And then what happens? When the life comes to an end? I shrugged. You see? He leaned back. He smiled. When you come to the end, that's where God begins.
by Mitch Albom
You say you should have died instead of me. But during my time on earth, people died instead of me, too. It happens every day. When lightning strikes a minute after you are gone, or an airplane crashes that you might have been on. When your colleague falls ill and you do not. We think such things are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole.
by Mitch Albom
we get so many lives between birth and death. A life to be a child. A life to come of age. A life to wander, to settle, to fall in love, to parent, to test our promise, to realize our mortality-and, in some lucky cases, to do something after that realization.
by Mitch Albom
I have the tendency to be nervous at the sight of trouble looming. As the danger draws near, I become less nervous. When the peril is at hand, I swell with fierceness. As I grapple with my assailant, I am without fear and fight to the finish with little thought of injury.
by Jean Sasson
The nun said, I can forgive the language. I'm not sure I can forgive your making an obscene gesture at your mother. Ya gotta know her, Holland said. If you knew her, you'd give her the finger, too.
by John Sandford
There's lying," says Mum, fishing out the envelope she wrote the directions on from her handbag, "which is wrong, and there's creating the right impression, which is necessary.
by David Mitchell
But an ink brush, she thinks, is a skeleton key for a prisoner's mind.
by David Mitchell
Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty.
by David Mitchell