My Book Boyfriend: Christian Prescott

 My Book Boyfriend is hosted every week by Missie at the Unread Reader--- pick a swoon-worthy literary guy and tell us a little about him! Check out the intro post here

 ~ ~ ~

Last week, I did a post for Tucker Avery, this week, I'm doing one for Christian Prescott... because let's face it, both of them are incredibly swoon-worthy!

Though I must admit, I was a little iffy about Christian in the first book---I mean, he was alright, but Tucker totally stole the spotlight! Especially after the whole prom fiasco...

BUT... after reading Hallowed, well, I'm just not so sure anymore! Let's just say Christian definitely changed my opinion about him

But anyways...about Christian:

•  is black haired and green-eyed
• is part angel
• never really loses his cool
• can communicate telepathically w/ Clara
• is Clara's rock throughout everything in book 2--super dependable!

Christian: "It's not your fault."
 Clara: "How do you figure that?"
"You followed your heart. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"You actually mean it." I'm stunned. I'd always assumed he'd blame me.
"Yes," he says with a ghost of a smile. "I actually do."


“Have you ever been to a place you're supposed to love, but all you can think about is home?”  

He tried in vain to stop me, but I manage to pin down his arms and get a few clumps of snow into the neck of his jacket. I crow in victory.

"Time to surrender," I laugh.

He smiles up at me. "Okay," he says.

Oh.

I stop. We're both breathing heavy, snow clinging to our hair, melting on our clothes. I stare down at him. Snow floats around us. His eyes are flooded with golden warmth. He's letting me do this. He's as strong as I am, or even stronger, but he's stopped fighting me.

The thing is, with him holding my hand, touching my skin, the ache in my chest eases. It's like he has the ability to take on some of my pain I feel so much better around him. Stronger. And he is willing to take my pain. He wans to bear it with me.
I can see it shining in his eyes. I'm more than a duty to him. I'm more than his literal dream girl. I'm so much more.
"Why do you want me, Christian? I'm hopelessly screwed up."
"We're all screwed up. And you look so cute while you're doing it."
"Stop."
The back of my neck feels hot where his breath is touching me, stirring the wisps of my hair that managed to escape my braid. "Thank you," I saw. We sit there for a while, not talking. An owl hoots in the distance. And suddenly, miraculously, there are tears in my eyes.
...
Christian holds me, and I cry. The ache empties itself out on his T-shirt, leaving me lighter, a good emptiness this time, like if I tried I might be able to fly.

And then, one of my favorite moments between Christian and Clara was when the person important to Clara dies and she goes back to her room and Christian is just waiting outside her window and he says: "I told you I'd be here," he says. "You can ignore me, though. Whatever you want."
"I want to take a nap."

"Okay. I'll be here
...
I close my eyes. When I open them again I see that two hours have passed, although I don't feel like I've slept. The sun is lower in the sky.
Christian's still on the roof.