Xavier Angel Quotes

My girlfriend is an angel." -Xavier

Love you,” Xavier said just before he drifted back to sleep. “Love you more,” I said playfully. “Not a chance,” Xavier said, fully awake now. “I’m bigger, I can contain more love.” “I’m smaller, therefore my love particles are more compressed, which means I can fit more in.” Xavier laughed. “That argument makes no sense. Overruled.” “I’m just basing it on how much I miss you when you’re not around,” I countered. “How can you possibly know how much I miss you?” he said. “Have you got some sort of built-in miss-o-meter that can give us a reading?” “I’m a girl; of course I have a built-in miss-o-meter.

Actually Gabriel’s an archangel,” I corrected. “But otherwise, yes.” “Well, that explains why he’s so hard to impress,” said Xavier flippantly

The remnants of my dress hung like tentacles and from my back arched a pari of towering wings, feather-light but suggesting enourmous power. My hair streamed behind me, and I knew that the ring of light around my head would be brighter than ever. “Holy crap!” Xavier blurted

To anyone else, Xavier's use of the word angel would have sounded like nothing more than a lovesick teenager professing his admiration. Only the two of us knew differently and now we both shared a secret- that brought us closer than ever. It was as if we had just sealed the bond between us, closed the gap, and made it final.

They want to hold a seance and go dressed as bunnies.” “What kind of bunnies?” he asked suspiciously. “Playboy, I think. Whatever that means.” “That sounds about right.” Xavier laughed. “But don’t let them talk you into anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” “They’re my friends.” “So what?” He shrugged. “If your friends walked off a cliff, would you do it too?” “Why would they walk off a cliff?” I asked in alarm. “Is someone having problems at home?” Xavier laughed. “It’s just an expression.” “It’s silly,” I told him. “Do you think I should go as an angel? Like in the film version of Romeo and Juliet?” “There would be a certain irony in that,” Xavier said, smirking. “An angel posing as a human posing as an angel. I like it.

You filthy angel,” Xavier presses his forehead to mine. It’s a sweet moment—an outsider might even call it touching. But then he adds with a smirk, “You just fucked your stepbrother.

Something about the way he smiled when the sun hit his face and hair made him appear almost angelic, which was hilarious because Xavier was as devilish as they come. Devilish. Sexy. Arrogant. Possessive.

It felt oily inside her head. There were strings of Xavier Stancliff caught inside of her, holding on and spiderwebbing out as he plotted and waited and thought: this is all the bitch deserves. Swallowing, Sandra pushed herself off the bed. It was late and the room was dark. She could see the bundled lump of Jack beneath his own covers. He’d left the television on and the light flickered down the tiny hall. Shadows danced and Sandra shivered as she left the room. In another life, she would have told Danny and Jack about the man. Danny would have whispered, “It’s alright,” and smoothed back her hair from her face and kissed her, lips dry and coarse on her forehead. Then he and Jack would’ve left while she was sleeping. They would’ve trampled the flowers and climbed into Xavier Stanliff’s window and when Sandra woke up there would have been one less man in the world.

The next thing I know, we’re kissing. As our mouths tangle, her body presses against mine. I run my palms against the bare skin on her back and hips. I’ve been to Heaven. Touching Camilla is better.

What do you know of angels, Xavier?