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I'm sorry. Be sorry you lied, he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Don't be sorry you loved him. That's part of you, part you have to let go, yeah, but still something that's made you who you are.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Stills
Pressing
Part
Foreheads
Still
Lied
Made
Kiss
Something
Kissing
Sorry
Yeah
Loved
Forehead

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And sometimes, if I was really, really lucky, he’d smile at me. A real smile, too—not the dry one that accompanied the sarcasm we tossed around so often. I didn’t want to admit it to anyone—not to Lissa, not even to myself—but some days, I lived for those smiles.
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It was worth it. You looked... happy.
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Different time, different place,” I said. “Things can change. People can change.
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I nodded. Yup. What I did was tantamount to treason in their eyes. I don't know what 'tantamount' means, but it sounds pretty serious.
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You destroy my life then feed me inspirational philosophy.
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I decided the Alchemists needed an entire department devoted to handling Adrian Ivashkov.
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Ever since Dimitri came back...no, scratch that. Ever since you became obsessed with changing him, you've been torn over me. No matter what's happened between us, you've never really given yourself over to our relationship. I wanted to believe what you told me. I thought you were ready...but you weren't.
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You are an exceptional, talented, and brilliant young woman. Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you’re less. Do not ever let anyone make you feel invisible. Do not let anyone—not even a teacher who constantly sends you for coffee—push you around.
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Тhere isnʹt much I wouldnʹt do for you. Тhe stupider, the better.
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I love you, and beneath all that logic, calculation, and superstition, I know you love me too.
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My muse is an ungrateful harlot who’s abandoned me to actually come up with my own plots.
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There's a guy chasing me! I called as I headed out the door.
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So. Are you guys here to convert me or sell me siding?
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What are you? An after school special?
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Mark glanced at his watch and sighed. Look, I have to go, but I'm serious, Rose. Stay here. Stay out of trouble. Fight Strigoi if they come to you, but don't go seeking them blindly. And definitely leave the ghosts alone. It was a lot of advice to get in a grocery store, a lot of advice I wasn't sure I could follow.
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We need to be together. Why? I asked softly. The word was carried away on the wind, but he heard. Because I want you. I gave him a sad smile, wondering if we'd meet again in the land of the dead. Wrong answer, I told him. I let go
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I nearly dropped the plate I held. You've asked me out tons of times. Not really. I've made inapproprite suggestions and frequently pushed for nudity. But I've never asked you out on a real date. And, if memory serves, you did say you'd give me a fair chance once I let you clean out my trust fund. I didn't clean it out, I scoffed.
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Adrian sighed. I knew you staying out of trouble was too good to be true.
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