Written In The Stars Alexandria Bellefleur Quotes

Life would be a lot better if we all spent a little more time staring at the stars.

Elle loved herself, but what a feeling it must be, being loved by someone else exactly as you are, quirks and warts and all. She wouldn't know.

We are literally made of stardust." Moonlight danced off the tips of Elle's pale blond eyelashes and made her eyes twinkle. If anyone was made of star stuff, it was her.

I know how I feel and I'm five hundred percent certain that on a scale of one to ten, I want to be with you, exactly as you are, infinity.

Fun fact — the moon doesn't actually produce any light of its own. It reflects light from the sun, making it appear bright at night. So, if I look like the moon, I guess that means I'm reflecting the light thats around me.

The right person shouldnt complete you, they should love you the way you are. And it's cool if they make you want to be better, but they should never make you feel like you are too much or not enough exactly as you are.

Elle was tired of everyone looking at her like she was a mess when she was just trying her best.

Since when is love supposed to be convenient?

Then I’ll break into your apartment and move everything three inches to the left and fuck with your flow, okay?

I'd rather fail at something I love than succeed at something I don't.

The way I see it, you can’t rush something you want to last forever.

She wanted all of Elle—the good, the bad, the messy.

He looks at you like you hung the moon.

Elle was technicolor chaos and the feelings she inspired in Darcy were a hazard straight out of Pandora’s box.

Christ on a cracker, couldn't a girl be horny in peace?

Quit trying to marry me off like I’m some Regency spinster in one of your favorite Austen novels.” “Your name is Darcy.” “And I might be a single woman in possession of a good fortune, but I’m not in want of a wife.

Elle loved herself, but what a feeling it must be, being loved by someone else exactly as you are, quirks and warts and all. She wouldn’t know.

Because perhaps if she understood astrology, she'd understand Elle, and if she understood Elle perhaps, she'd be able to untangle what it was about her that she couldn't shake.

Oh my god. Don’t tell me you don’t know your Hogwarts house. Pottermore? The Sorting Hat Quiz? "When Darcy stared, Elle groaned and covered her face." You don’t do social media, you don’t believe in astrology, and now you don’t like Harry Potter. On behalf of our generation, I am offended, you rock dweller.

He'd fly her to the moon if it made her happy.

But I think you’re right. With the right person, I don’t think it matters what you do or where you are.

Love isn’t supposed to be quantifiable, relationships held up against one another, pitted against one another.

Eavesdropping was wrong, but she was weak.

Eventually, when those massive stars reach the end of their lives, they go out with a bang, a supernova so bright, so beautiful it drowns out all the other stars. And when they do, they throw out all those elements they created. That’s what we’re made of. We’ve got calcium in our bones and iron in our blood and nitrogen in our DNA . . . and all of that? It comes from those stars.” Elle’s eyes glistened, sparkling as bright as the stars she spoke of as she blinked and pointed up at the sky. “We are literally made of stardust.

There was no word that existed in the English language that meant the opposite of lonely. Some came closer than others, but nothing did justice to the feeling of someone looking into your eyes and connecting with you on a soul-deep level.

Why is that such a hard pill to swallow?" "Because you want to solve everything for everybody. Make everyone happy. You like to fix things, but some things aren't yours to fix.

The last thing I want to do is harsh your vibe or rain on your parade, but I take no shit on your behalf.

There was no going back now. Not that he'd want to. He never wanted to go back. Not when he could go forward with Annie.

The sky was blue. The grass was green. Darcy was beautiful. Universally acknowledged truths.

Why she was so in knots over this impossible woman who had her head in the clouds and wore her heart on her sleeve. A woman with the world’s least refined palate and an inability to sit properly in a chair like a normal person.

Darcy should've wanted as far away from her as earthy possible and yet her laugh was infectious and made something warm bloom inside Darcy's chest like stubborn wildflowers poking up through cracks in the pavement, growing where they didn't belongs.

If his heart was elastic, it had snapped in two.

Sunscreen and watermelon Jolly Ranchers, coconut and sunshine—even in the dead of winter Annie had always smelled like summer.

An acquired taste.” Elle sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from doing something stupid like quivering. “Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough, is it?

Who takes care of you? - Elle ... You're doing a pretty good job of it. - Darcy

This was it. Boom. End game. A lifetime of butterflies.

I just . . . I love the nuances of language and all their quirks. Like how certain words exist in foreign languages and have no direct English equivalent. Meraki in Greek means, basically, to do something with love, but there’s no English word for it. The closest is ‘labor of love,’ but that sounds like you’re being put-upon. Meraki means to do something with pleasure, to pour your whole heart into a task or craft. Like putting all your love into a meal or a gift.” She ducked her chin and shrugged. “So, yeah. Translation would be my dream job. Puzzling out how to keep the text true even when it’s not easy. There’s a cultural component you can’t ignore without”—her lips curved—“losing something in translation.

What would it take to become someone Annie cared about? He wanted to find out everything there was to know about her, not just to prove her wrong about romance being dead, but to satisfy his own burning curiosity.

She wasn't even two feet from him but she might as well have been a million miles away already. He could see her, he was looking right at her, but it felt like he'd already lost her. If she had even been his to begin with.

Lips covering Elle’s and fingers bunching in Elle’s hot pink sweater, Darcy threw herself off the cliff’s edge and let herself fall. Not to Earth, but toward Elle. Elle, who was magnetic and made it sound like nothing was impossible. That even gravity could be defied if Darcy simply believed. That even if she didn’t defy gravity, she could fall anyway and it would be okay because Elle would give Darcy a soft place to land. That Darcy could trust Elle with every fragile inch of herself.

ELLE: i tried to heterotextualize my feelings for a while ELLE: in retrospect idk why ELLE: all part of the process i guess DARCY You what? "It took her a second to figure out what had confused Darcy." ELLE: apply hetero context to a super not straight situation ELLE: hetero + contextualize = heterotextualize DARCY: Huh. New word. Thanks for broadening my horizons. "Elle bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing." ELLE: i made it up ELLE (4:43 P.M.): but you’re welcome DARCY (4:45 P.M.): Of course.

I do love it. That big, demonstrative moment where nothing else matters but making sure the person you care about knows it. That you’re in. You’re all in and you want everyone to know, no matter how wild or risky it is. Weddings are like that. The vows are, at least.” Something about the soft look in Annie’s eyes, wistful almost, compelled him to keep going. To confess what he’d never told anyone before. “I don’t have a single memory of my mom and dad saying I love you to each other.” Annie made a soft noise, but he soldiered on, wanting to get this out. “Maybe those movies aren’t perfect, but for most of my life, they were the best proof I had that people could wind up happy together.

Because when I’m around you, I lose my head.” “The feeling’s mutual. I told you, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.

All her friends were settling down, and Margot? She had yet to find a brand of shampoo she liked well enough to commit to, let alone a whole person

Everything I learn about you makes me want to know more.

They're really pretty. Your eyes, I mean.

If you don't believe in love, what's left to believe in?

All her friends were settling down, and Margot? She had yet to find a brand of shampoo she liked well enough to commit to, let along a whole person.

All her friends were settling down, and Margot? She had yet to find a brand of shampoo she liked well enough to commit to, let alone a whole person.

You just whined at me." Annie cackled. "Oh my god. I'm dead. You're so fucked. I love it.

She looks at you like you hung the moon.

There was only so much chafing a girl could handle, and Elle Jones had reached her limit.

...but I'd rather fail at something I love than succeed at something I don't.

Elle looked like she'd been draped in the night sky, dipped in starlight.

Quit trying to marry me off like I’m some Regency spinster in one of your favorite Austen novels.

if you so much as make a single joke right now or butcher a playground nursery rhyme about trees and kissing and baby carriages, I'll let myself into your apartment and use your comic book collection as kindling. Capiche?

I’m not . . . you were the opposite of what I thought I wanted but it turned out you were exactly what I needed and somewhere along the way you became the one thing I wanted more than anything. What I said to my mother, it wasn’t true, Elle. I lied to her

This didn’t feel like heartbreak, this was heartbreak. Darcy had miscalculated; she wasn’t falling, she’d fallen. She pressed a hand to her chest as if in doing so she could keep her heart from shattering entirely, but the damage was already done. Too late.

And no one remembers anything, because why should they? It's all online. When was the last time you remembered a friend's birthday without Facebook reminding you?" He frowned. "It's convenient." "Since when are friendships, let alone love, supposed to be convenient?

The easier question wasn’t what she liked about Elle, but what she didn’t. Because Elle wasn’t perfect, there were things about her that drove Darcy up the wall, like how she never wore a jacket and would sometimes drop off in the middle of a sentence when a new thought flitted through her mind, but listing the things she loved about Elle was like asking her to count the stars in the sky. They’d be there all night and even then, it wouldn’t be enough time. “Her eyes are my new favorite color and if you make fun of me for saying that I’ll

You're not in high school, for crying out loud." No, but sometimes Annie made him feel like he was. Like he was a kid discovering everything for the first time, things he'd never felt before. He liked it. He loved it, loved that everything with Annie felt shiny and new, like the sunlight streaming in through the window. Golden.

I'm a whole person. And the idea of needing to find someone to make you complete seems like bullshit to me. The right person shouldn't complete you, they should love you the way you are. And it's cool if they make you want to be better, but they should never make you feel like you're too much or not enough exactly as you are. - Margot

Maybe disappointment wasn't an inevitability. Maybe everything in her life so far had happened for a reason, the way it was supposed to. All those little disappointments, not the dead ends she'd thought, but turns she had to make, all leading her to something bigger, something better, something lasting, something real. Hers. A perfect convergence of being in the right place at the right time.

I knew I wasn't happy in Philadelphia, but I tried not to think about it. No one wants to think about how unhappy they are," she admitted. "I think... I think I've been settling for less than happy for so long that I'd forgotten what being happy really felt like." The smile she gave him started slow, almost shy, before brightening into something steady and sure. "Until I came here. You've been a huge part of that, Brendon.

The easier question wasn’t what she liked about Elle, but what she didn’t. Because Elle wasn’t perfect, there were things about her that drove Darcy up the wall, like how she never wore a jacket and would sometimes drop off in the middle of a sentence when a new thought flitted through her mind, but listing the things she loved about Elle was like asking her to count the stars in the sky. They’d be there all night and even then, it wouldn’t be enough time. “Her eyes

Annie surveyed the boxes of board games stacked on the table. They had everything from Battleship to Cranium to Settlers of Catan, and even a game called Exploding Kittens. If this was a test, she wanted to pass, but she also didn’t want to risk life and limb, knowing how competitive Darcy and Brendon could get. “How about Scruples?” That sounded low risk. Margot grinned. “I like you.” Darcy shook her head. “We should finish with Scruples. I need more wine before I play that game.” Elle laughed. “Charades first?” “Fine.” Darcy dropped her head back against Elle’s thigh. “But we have to pick new teams.” “Normally Brendon and I partner up,” Margot explained. “It’s not safe to put those two”—she nodded at Darcy and Brendon—“on a team together. They’re ruthless.” “I replaced your coffee table, didn’t I?” Darcy arched a brow. “No harm, no foul.” “Brendon fell through the coffee table. It was scarring.” Margot shivered. “I thought we were going to have to drive him to the emergency room.

as if something inside her was stretching, making space. Growing pains. “Eventually, when those massive stars reach the end of their lives, they go out with a bang, a supernova so bright, so beautiful it drowns out all the other stars. And when they do, they throw out all those elements they created. That’s what we’re made of. We’ve got calcium in our bones and iron in our blood and nitrogen in our DNA . . . and all of that? It comes from those stars.” Elle’s eyes glistened, sparkling as bright as the stars she spoke of as she blinked and pointed up at the sky. “We are literally made of stardust.

She'd watched enough movies, listened to enough of her friends moon over magical kisses. She'd rolled her eyes at description of toes curling and breaths being snatched, of drowning in someone, that made it sound like a great time. Of hearts galloping like the hooves of a hundred wild horses and colors flashing prismatically behind close lids. She'd laughed at how two people pressing their mouths together could ever be described with the sort of near-orgasmic passion that usually required she have her pants off. [...] But kissing Brendon? That was a revelation. All those clichés? They didn't hold a candle to the way his lips turned her body into a living, breathing live wire of sensation.

Elle’s throat jerked, her lips pressed together. “No, it’s the opposite. When I’ve had a crappy week, I come out here and look at the stars and I remember being six years old and watching my first meteor shower on a family camping trip and feeling awe like I’d never felt before. Stars shooting through the sky, it was like . . . it was magic. Carl Sagan said we’re made of star stuff and it’s true, you know? Stars, the really big ones, don’t just make carbon and oxygen but they keep burning and burning and burning and that burning produces alpha elements like nitrogen and sulfur, neon and magnesium all the way up to iron. It’s called supernova nucleosynthesis. Say that five times fast.” Elle laughed and Darcy’s chest ached

Sparks either fizzled, or they caught fire and burned you. Badly. No, thank you.

Virgo—Love Actually’s cue cards

Elle had a flashback to when her pretty fifth-grade teacher put gold stars on all her best work.

Because letting Brendon get to know her meant letting him in. It meant trusting him with a million left facts, all the haphazard pieces of herself, and hoping he'd remember them all. You couldn't be disappointed when someone forgot your middle name if they didn't know your middle name. You couldn't be upset when someone forgot your favorite food or how you felt about your job if you never told them to begin with. You couldn't be disappointed when someone stopped caring if you never expected them to in the first place. Rejections always stung, but nothing hurt quite as badly as sharing pieces of yourself, trusting someone with your heart, and then being cast aside when you cared more than they did.

Her skin was too tight, hot, itchy, and she wanted to strip it off, strip herself down, let Darcy see the full shape of her heart, messy and imperfect and with a space carved out, a space she’d been aching to fill for so long but no one ever fit, their angles too sharp, too rough, puzzle pieces never lining up right with hers. Elle had been waiting, waiting for the right person to come along who fit inside the space, that space inside her heart carved out just for them. For her person, not a perfect person, but a person perfect for her.

I’d never ask you who you care about more because you care about us differently and I believe love is one of those things that doesn’t run out.

casual was beginning to grate. She’d ban it from her vocabulary if she could, scrap it altogether. Screw casual.

It’s the hard knock life.” - Darcy (in reference to her best friend Annie).

Getting to know Elle, being in close proximity with her. It was too much, made it hard for her to think, made her want things she had no business craving with Elle.

She wasn't going to think about how smooth Elle's skin, her thigh, had felt beneath that table, how she'd wanted to stay hidden by the tablecloth. She wasn't going to think about how Elle's breath had tickled her neck during that hug or how Elle's lip had brushed her jaw as she lowered back down from where she'd risen up on her tippy-toes and flung her arms around Darcy's neck.

Leaning in, she brushed her lips against Elle's and it was like striking a match, that spark she'd refused to acknowledge catching flame with the slightest friction of lips on lips.

Elle's chest squeezed, wishing Darcy didn't have to act like she liked her.

It’s all right here. Written in the stars. I’m merely an interpreter.

Before this moment, she’d never realized what a lonely job it was, protecting a fragile heart.

Fun fact—the moon doesn’t actually produce any light of its own. It reflects light from the sun, making it appear bright at night. So, if I look like the moon, I guess that means I’m reflecting the light that’s around me.

To Brendon, every moment was a meet-cute waiting to happen, each first date he went on captured in his memory in case he found the one and needed to tell his future children about the night their mom and dad met.

Elle was a bright splash of color against the clean canvas of Darcy’s apartment.

You said your mom got rid of your grandma’s holiday decorations, so I just thought . . .” Elle shrugged. “I guess I didn’t do much actual thinking. You could’ve already had a tree and ornaments, or Brendon might’ve, but I wanted to make sure you had something. I know the tree is kind of ugly, and none of the ornaments match but if—” “It’s perfect,” Darcy whispered.

Loose strands of blond hair caught the moonlight, creating a haloed glow around her when she turned her face up to the sky. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” “Yes.” Darcy wasn’t looking at the sky.

Cute dress.” “Thanks.” Elle tugged at the skirt. “It has pockets.

Right. Then in the interest of time, I’ll get straight to it.” Elle lifted her hips, wiggling her phone free from her back pocket. She made several swipes against the screen before clearing her throat. “Question one, what the fuck?” ... “Can I expect question two to be more specific?” Elle harrumphed and glanced down at the phone in her hand. “I don’t know, let’s see. Question two, how dare you?

Do you have somewhere you can stay?” Brendon’s eyes flitted to Margot, then back to Olivia. “A friend’s place, maybe?

You do realize I could be anybody, right?” Margot veered to the right, careful not to slip as she stepped from carpet onto the kitchen tile, her socks offering no grip. “I could’ve been a murderer for all you knew, and you invited me in.” “Murderers don’t knock, Margot,” Elle said from the other room. “You don’t know that.

Cheesy, yet adorable,” Margot conceded. Elle leaned back, resting her weight on her hands. “A little cheese never hurt anyone.” She wrinkled her nose. “Unless you’re lactose intolerant like Darcy, but that’s only if you’re being literal.” Margot snorted. “True.” “Come on, Mar.” Elle snagged a handful of markers and spread them out like a fan. “It’s arts and crafts! What’s not to love?

I’m sure you’re happy that your paths crossed,” Brendon said. “I am,” Olivia agreed. “I count my lucky stars, that’s for sure.

Maybe she wasn’t Olivia’s perfect person, the one Olivia wanted with her whole heart and soul, the person Olivia ached for and dreamed about at night.

Annie trailed after them, holding both their bouquets. Elle’s had tiny sprigs of cilantro tucked in amongst the eucalyptus and baby’s breath, a subtle nod to an inside joke between her and Darcy.

Magnetic. Elle couldn’t look away because this was champagne bubbles on her tongue, the first plunge into a swimming pool on a scorcher of a day, that moment right before the bass drops in a killer song. Sparks, chemistry, whatever it was, this was the sort of it’s there or it’s not connection she’d been chasing.

If you don't reckon with your feelings, sooner or later your feelings are going to reckon with you.

Margot's chest throbbed like at any second she might bust open like a piñata, feelings pouring out of her like candy.

Most people want a thirty-second sound bite, two hundred and eighty characters or less. Anything longer than that and they move on because they don't really care. And no one remembers anything, because why should they? It's all online. When was the last time you remembered a friend's birthday without Facebook reminding you? - Brendon