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Quote by Abbigail Raine B.

“If it was me that was struggling, I wouldn't want people harping at me all the live-long day about how I need to change. I'd need time to think, sort things out, and come to terms with life. But before that can happen," he paused, giving her a tender smile. "I'd just want the comfort of knowing that I wasn't alone and had a friend who would sit by me, even when I'm falling apart.”

Quote by Abbigail Raine B.

Work

The Guardian

The Guardian is a suspenseful narrative that explores complex relationships and the consequences of one's actions, set against a backdrop of intrigue and danger. more

Author

Abbigail Raine B.

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“Go back to the house.' 'I will,' he said, flashing a grin again. 'After I drop you off at your front door.' At that piece-of-shit apartment she insisted on living in. Across the city. Nesta's eyes- the same as Feyre's and yet wholly different, sharp and cold as steel- went to his hands. What was in them. 'What is that.' Another grin as he lifted the small, wrapped parcel. 'Your Solstice present.' 'I don't want one.' Cassian continued past her, tossing the present in his hands. 'You want this one.' He prayed she would. It had taken him months to find it. ... 'I don't want anything from you.' He made himself arch an eyebrow. 'You sure about that, sweetheart?”

“Cassian was sleeping in a chair beside her bed. His head was at an awkward angle, and his wings drooped onto the stone- and he was wearing only his undershorts and a blanket that looked as if someone had draped it over his lap. ... She stared at him for long minutes, the unusual paleness of his face, the brows still clenched with worry, as if he fretted for her, even in sleep. The sun gilded his dark hair and shone through his wings, bringing out the undertones of reds and golds in both. Like a knight guarding his lady. She couldn't stop the image, sprung from the pages of her childhood books. Like a warrior-prince, with those tattoos and that muscle-bound chest. Her throat tightened unbearably, her eyes stinging. She would not let herself cry, not for herself or for the sight of him keeping watch beside her bed all night. But it was as if her furious blinking woke him, as if he could hear the flutter of her lashes. His hazel eyes shot to hers, like he always knew precisely where she was. And they were so full of worry, of that unrelenting goodness, that she had to fight like hell to keep the tears from falling. Cassian said gently. 'Hey.' She clamped down on herself. 'Hello.' 'Are you all right?' 'Yes.' No. Though not for the reason he believed. 'Good.' He groaned, stretching, first his arms and then his wings. Muscles rippled. 'You want to talk about it?' 'No.' 'That's fine.' And that was that. But Cassian threw her a half smile, and it was so normal, so him in a way that no one else was or would ever be, that her throat tightened again. 'You want breakfast?' Nesta managed to answer his half smile with one of her own. 'I like your priorities, general.”