Jala Quinlan

“But when I touch you, your aura … it smolders. The colors deepen, it burns more intensely, the purple increases. Why? Why, Sydney?” He used that hand to pull me closer. “Why do you react that way if I don’t mean anything to you?” There was a desperation in his voice, and it was legitimate.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

“I’d mentioned this odd wardrobe choice to Adrian a couple of weeks ago:
“Isn’t Dimitri hot?”
Adrian’s response hadn’t been entirely unexpected:
“Well, yeah, according to most women, at least.”
― Richelle Mead, The Golden Lily

“Really, Sage? A date?”
I sighed. “Yes, Adrian. A date.”
“A real date. Not, like, doing homework together,” he added.
“I mean like where you go out to a movie or something. And a
movie that’s not part of a school assignment. Or about something boring.”
“A real date.”
― Richelle Mead, The Golden Lily

“I see how it is,” I snapped. “You were all in favor of me breaking the tattoo and thinking on my own—but that’s only okay if it’s convenient for you, huh? Just like your ‘loving from afar’ only works if you don’t have an opportunity to get your hands all over me. And your lips. And . . . stuff.”

Adrian rarely got mad, and I wouldn’t quite say he was now. But he was definitely exasperated. “Are you seriously in this much self-denial, Sydney? Like do you actually believe yourself when you say you don’t feel anything? Especially after what’s been happening between us?”

“Nothing’s happening between us,” I said automatically. “Physical attraction isn’t the same as love. You of all people should know that.”

“Ouch,” he said. His expression hadn’t changed, but I saw hurt in his eyes. I’d wounded him. “Is that what bothers you? My past? That maybe I’m an expert in an area you aren’t?”

“One I’m sure you’d just love to educate me in. One more girl to add to your list of conquests.”

He was speechless for a few moments and then held up one finger. “First, I don’t have a list.” Another finger, “Second, if I did have a list, I could find someone a hell of lot less frustrating to add to it.” For the third finger, he leaned toward me. “And finally, I know that you know you’re no conquest, so don’t act like you seriously think that. You and I have been through too much together. We’re too close, too connected. I wasn’t that crazy on spirit when I said you’re my flame in the dark. We chase away the shadows around each other. Our backgrounds don’t matter. What we have is bigger than that. I love you, and beneath all that logic, calculation, and superstition, I know you love me too. Running away and fleeing all your problems isn’t going to change that. You’re just going to end up scared and confused.”

“I already feel that way,” I said quietly.

Adrian moved back and leaned into his seat, looking tired. “Well, that’s the most accurate thing you’ve said so far.”

I grabbed the basket and jerked open the car door. Without another word, I stormed off, refusing to look back in case he saw the tears that had inexplicably appeared in my eyes. Only, I wasn’t sure exactly which part of our conversation I was most upset about.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell