Sorry, Ms. Terwilliger. I’m flattered that you think I’m such an upstanding person, but I’m already caught up in one epic battle of good versus evil. I don’t need another.
Adrian stood there leaning against the doorframe, watching me with his heart in his eyes. In my chest, my own heart was breaking. On my cheek, the lily reminded me who I was.
And here I thought you had a soft spot for reckless young girls.
So far I’m not seeing a lot of difference between me and a carnival con-man.
Why not see which is brighter: your aura or the sun?
Ah, those two. In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt.
Rose once told me about this poem she’d read. There was this line, ‘If your eyes weren’t open, you wouldn’t know the difference between dreaming and waking.’ You know what I’m afraid of? That someday, even with my eyes open, I still won’t know.
I’d seen him fight before, but it never got old. He was captivating. He never stopped moving. Every action was graceful and lethal. He was a dancer of death.
It’d be nice to have someone who understood some of the things that went on in my head.
Even if I’d been wide awake, I knew Dimitri would’ve taken my suitcase anyway. That’s how he was, a lost remnant of chivalry in the modern world, ever-ready to help others.
Every relationship is different. Everyone loves differently.
Besides, when not hard at work with this research, I’m actually conducting a side experiment on how cigarettes and gin increase charisma. As you might guess, the results are looking very promising.
Besides, I could hardly complain to the administration that I was being forced to learn magic.
In fact I was fairly certain there was no one in the entire world quite like Adrian Ivashkov.
How was it that Adrian Ivashkov, who never seemed to take anything seriously was the only one among these “responsible” people who paid attention to such small details? How was he the only one to really understand the magnitude of what I was feeling?
No, no. It’s always a good time for you to call, Roza.
Adrian was easily distractible by wacky topics and shiny objects.
What do you think Dimitri? Is this a good idea, Dimitri? Please give us your blessing so that we can fall down and worship you, Dimitri.
I was so tired of being told reasonable, practical things whenever something went wrong with my life.
Keeping love buried was a lot like jeeping anger pent up, I’d learned. It just ate you up insides until you wanted to scream or kick something.