Quote

Adrian looked away from me and down to where my hand covered his. I blushed and pulled away. “Sorry” I’d probably freaked him out

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 47
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Sorry
Looked
Probably
Hand
Blushed
Away
Freaked
Hands
Adrian
Pulled
Covered

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Where are we going? asked Victor. If I'm allowed to ask. I squirmed around in my seat so that I could look him in the eye. That's what you're going to tell us. As hard as it is to believe, we didn't do all that just because we missed your pleasant company. That is hard to believe.
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I felt a strange fluttering sensation in my chest. Butterflies, cardiac arrest . . . it was hard to say what exactly.
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We all have moments of weakness. It’s how we recover from them that really counts.
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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.
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Finn crossed his arms and glared at Volusian. It was kind of a bold move, considering Finn looked like a cartoon character and Volusian looked like he ate the souls of small children. For all I knew, he probably did.
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I lifted the lid and found a piece of bread and some water—and a rat that quickly darted off the tray. Talk about adding insult to injury.
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You were totally unprepared for her.” “That's for damned sure.
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No, I can just read you. Finally. I can't believe how blind I was. I can't believe I never noticed. Victor's comment...he was right. She glanced off at the sunset, then turned her gaze back on me. A flash of anger, both in her feelings and her eyes, hit me. Why didn't you tell me? she cried. Why didn't you tell me you loved Dimitri?
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His warmth was all around me, as was his love, and again, I felt that completeness. I had that missing piece of my word back. The soul that complemented mine. My match. My equal. Not only that, I had my life back -my own life. I would protect Lissa, I would serve, but I was finally my own person.
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What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?
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Did you see that dress?” I saw the dress.” Did you like it?” He didn't answer. I took that as a yes. Am I going to endanger my reputation if I wear it to the dance?” When he spoke, I could barely hear him. You'll endanger the school.” I smiled and fell asleep.
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Yeah? Can you draw a skeleton riding a motorcycle with flames coming out of it? And I want a pirate hat on the skeleton. And a parrot on his shoulder. A skeleton parrot. Or maybe a ninja skeleton parrot? No, that would be overkill. But it'd be cool if the biker skeleton could be shooting some ninja throwing stars. That are on fire.
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It doesn't matter. Take Eddie's blood. Take Belikov's blood. Take your own for all I care. But If she doesn't want to give hers, then that's all there is to it. She said no. This conversation is done.
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God might work on mysterious ways, but hell worked on efficient ones.
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No, he said, voice thick and husky. His fingers dug into the chair's arms. You'd better not get too close. I stopped, laughing softly. You don't strike me as the assaulting type, Mortensen. Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything.
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Ah, well,ʺ said Abe, idly studying his fingertips. ʺI have it on good authority thereʹs going to be a new ‘gateʹ opening up soon over on the south side of the wall. The truth dawned on me. ʺOh lord. Youʹre the one whoʹs been doling out C4.ʺ ʺYou make it sound so easy,ʺ he said with a frown. ʺThat stuffʹs hard to get a hold of.
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That's pretty hot, he said. Punching me in the eye? Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports. I'm sure you are.
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Do not do that again, he said stiffly. Don't kiss me back then, I retorted. He stared at me for what seemed like forever. I don't give 'Zen lessons' to hear myself talk. I don't give them because you're another student. I'm doing this to teach you control. You're doing a great job, I said bitterly.
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Hey Mason, wipe that drool off you face. If you're going to think about me naked, do it on your own time. -Rose to Mason
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Eddie became about one percent less tense.
Richelle Mead