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Quote by Mihai Cristian

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La Tiers Du Cylindre

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Mihai Cristian

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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.”

“Cassian strode in, a tray of food in hand, and halted when he didn't find her on the bed. His eyes shot to the sunken pool, and she could have sworn he almost dropped the tray onto the white carpet. 'I... You.' His loss of words was enough to pull her from her thoughts, to curve the corners of her mouth upward. 'Me?' He shook his head like a wet dog. 'I bought some food. I assumed you'd want dinner.' 'There's no dining room?' 'There is, but I thought you might need to unwind.' She surveyed him, surprised that he knew her well enough to guess that the thought of speaking to everyone again, of dressing in suitable clothes, was draining- miserable. Knew her well enough to grasp that she'd rather eat in her room and piece herself together.”

“Maybe you and I could... not go home together?' The words hung in the air between them, as fine as spun glass and just as fragile. Marra waited for him to say something, to catch the words or shatter them, whichever he chose. 'I think I'd like that,' said Fenris. Marra sagged with relief. She had been so focused on what he might say that she hadn't quite expected what he might do. So it came as a surprise when he wrapped both arms around her and put his lips against her hair. 'I think I would like that very much,' he murmured. 'Oh good,' said Marra, against his neck. And then she would have kissed him or he would have kissed her, but Bonedog decided that they were wrestling and jumped up and barked soundlessly at them both.”

“You don’t get it just like you don’t get yourself. Sometimes the simple beauty of a woman is more powerful than anything. It doesn’t need to be a massive painting, it doesn’t need to be filled with a lot of things going on in the canvas space, and it doesn’t need a lot of fancy art techniques. It’s just her. Her beauty. Her in her raw form with those intangible attributes that drove men crazy. Those intangible qualities that could topple kings. Those made Leonardo paint her. Those are still bringing people here to look at her and ponder over. It’s real love. An unfiltered and non-romanticized version. It’s real because it doesn’t need to be anything more. Just like you don’t need to be anything more. You’ve got those intangible qualities to bring millions of people to visit a museum to see you every year. You in your raw form have that power. People don’t forget someone like that. They’re etched into your bones and molded into your core.”