I didn’t care that we were out in public. I didn’t care that he was Moroi. All that mattered was that he was Adrian, my Adrian. My match. My partner in crime, in the long battle I’d just signed on for to right the wrongs in the Alchemist and Moroi worlds. Maybe Marcus was right that I’d also signed myself up for disaster, but I didn’t care. In that moment, it seemed that as long as Adrian and I were together, there was no challenge too great for us
Richelle MeadTags: romantically-honest
If I was drunk, I wouldn’t be here at all. And really, this is pretty good for four White Russians.”
“White what?” I almost sat down but was afraid the chair might dematerialize beneath me.
“It’s a drink,” he said. “You’d think I wouldn’t be into something named that—you know, considering my own personal experience with Russians. But they’re surprisingly delicious. The drinks, not real Russians.
Tags: adrian-ivashkov sydney-sage
I certainly hadn't expected to walk away from today's trip with joint custody of a miniature dragon.
Richelle MeadTags: funny adrian-ivashkov sydney-sage
The future of our relationship hinged on advice from a fifteen-year old girl, a probably untrue story from a one-eyed Chihuahua trainer, and me unromantically – yet skillfully – kissing you on top of silverware and china?
Richelle MeadTags: adrian-ivashkov sydney-sage
You might want to do something about your neck.”
I was totally lost. “My neck?”
She reached into her purse and handed me a compact mirror. I opened it and surveyed my neck, still trying to figure out what she could be talking about. Then I saw it. A small, brownish purple bruise on the side of my neck.
“What on earth is that?” I exclaimed.
Ms. Terwilliger snorted. “Although it’s been a while for me, I believe the technical term is a hickey” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “You do know what that is, don’t you?”
“Of course I know!” I lowered the mirror. “But there’s no way—I mean, we barely—that is—”
She held up a hand to silence me. “You don’t have to justify your private life to me. But you might want to consider how you can actually keep it private in the next fifteen minutes.
Tags: sydney-sage ms-terwilliger
Adrian might be brash and impertinent, but he knew how to move. Maybe dance lessons had been part of growing up in an elite tier of Moroi society. Or maybe he was just naturally skilled at using his body. That kiss has certainly show a fair amount of talent...
Richelle MeadHe anxiously touched his hair. "I think my hair gel's frozen.
Richelle MeadTags: adrian-ivashkov
I'm done with the pouting," he said. "Done with being moody—well, I mean, I'm always a little moody. That's what Adrian Ivashkov's all about. But I'm done with the excessive stuff. That didn't get me anywhere with Rose. It won't get me anywhere with you."
"Nothing will get you anywhere with me," I exclaimed.
"I don't know about that." He put on an introspective look that was both unexpected and intruiging. "You're not as much of a lost cause as she was. I mean, with her, I had to overcome her deep, epic love with a Russian warlord. You and I just have to overcome hundreds of years' worth of deeply ingrained prejudice and taboo between our two races. Easy.
Tags: adrian-ivashkov sydney-sage
He didn't see me looking at him, but I could tell the ceremony was having the same effect on him. He was enraptured.
It was a rare and sweet look for him, reminding me of the tortured artist that lived beneath the sarcasm. I liked that about Adrian—not the tortured part, but the way he could feel so deeply and then transform those emotions into art.
And so went the rest of our conversation, with me having to constantly stop and explain what I’d just said. Each time, Dorian had some gentry equivalent for whatever I described. Some were more far-fetched than others, like when he said he was certain gorging on cake all day would achieve the same results as a blood-sugar test. He also had a very complicated explanation about how balancing a chicken in a tree was a well-established gentry method of determining gender. I was almost certain he knew there was no real equivalent to half the things I told him about and that he was making most of this up on the spot. He was simply trying to entertain me with the outlandish.
Richelle MeadTags: chicken
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