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“The future I'd dreamed of was just that: a dream. I'd grow old and withered, while he would remain young for centuries, perhaps millennia. At best, I'd have decades with him before I died. Decades. That was what I was fighting for. A flash in time for them- a drop in the pool of their eons. So I greedily drank the wine, and I stopped caring about who I was and what had once mattered to me. I stopped thinking about colour, about light, about the green of Tamlin's eyes- about all those things I had still wanted to paint and now would never get to. I wasn't going to leave this mountain alive.” — Sarah J. Maas
The future I'd dreamed of was just that: a dream. I'd grow old and withered, while he would remain young for centuries, perhaps millennia. At best, I'd have decades with him before I died.
Decades. That was what I was fighting for. A flash in time for them- a drop in the pool of their eons.
So I greedily drank the wine, and I stopped caring about who I was and what had once mattered to me. I stopped thinking about colour, about light, about the green of Tamlin's eyes- about all those things I had still wanted to paint and now would never get to.
I wasn't going to leave this mountain alive.