Sarah D

“I don't know why I feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them. Why it feels so selfish and horrible to paint. I shouldn't--shouldn't feel that way, should I? I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it."
The rose hung limply from my fingers. "All those years, what I did for them . . . And they didn't try to stop you from taking me.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“God afternoon," I said cheerfully, with an especially saccharine smile for the High Lord. He blinked at me, and both of the faerie men murmured their greetings as I took a seat across from Lucien, not my usual place facing Tamlin.

I drank deeply from my goblet of water before piling food on my plate. I savored the tense silence as I consumed the meal before me.

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?"

"Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck.

"What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded.

I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it."

Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

"I bit her," Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. "We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite.”
― Sarah J Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“The walls weren't moving, and the room was open - gaping. No colors, but shades of darkness, of night . Only those star-flecked violet eyes were bright, full of color and light. He gave me a lazy smile before he leaned forward.
I pulled away, but his hands were like shackles. I could do nothing as his mouth met with my cheek, and he licked away a tear. His tongue was hot against my skin, so startling that I couldn't move as he licked away another path of salt water, and then another. My body went taut and loose all at once and I burned, even as chills shuddered along my limbs. It was only when his tongue danced along the damp edges of my lashes that I jerked back.
He chuckled as I scrambled for the corner of the cell. I wiped my face as I glared at him.
He smirked, sitting down against a wall. "I figured that would get you to stop crying."
"It was disgusting." I wiped my face again.
"Was it?" He quirked an eyebrow and pointed to his palm - to the place where my tattoo would be. "Beneath all your pride and stubbornness, I could have sworn I detected something that felt differently. Interesting."
"Get out."
"As usual, your gratitude is overwhelming.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses