Radar

“Sometimes talking to you is like talking to myself: pretty damned annoying.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

“Do you think that's, like, REAL bacon?" I whispered to Sydney and Dimitri. "And not like squirrel or something?"
"Looks real to me," said Dimitri.
"I'd say so too", said Sydney "Though, I guarantee it's from their own pigs and not a grocery store."
Dimitri laughed at whatever expression crossed my face. "I always love seeing what worries you. Strigoi? No. Questionable food? Yes.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

“Do you love him?"
There were only a few people in the world who could ask me such insanely personal questions without getting punched. Dimitri was one of them.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

“Find one thing. One thing that's beautiful. Anything. Anything that shows you you're not one of them."

His eyes were back on me studying my face silently. Panic raced through me. It wasn't working. I couldn't do this. We were going to have to get out of here, regardless of whatever state he was in. I knew he'd leave, too. If i had learned anything, it was that Dimitri's warrior instincts were still working. If I said danger was coming, he would respond instantly, no matter the self-torment he felt. I didn't want him to leave in despair. I wanted him to leave here one step closer to being the man I knew he could be. I wanted him to have one less nightmare.

It was beyond my abilities, though. I was no therapist. I was about to tell him we had to get out of there, about to make his soldier reflexes kick in, when he suddenly spoke. His voice was barley a whisper. "Your hair."

"What?" for a second, I wondered if it was on fire or somthing. I touched a stray lock. No, nothing was wrong exept that it was a mess. I'd bound it up for battle to prevent the strgoi from using it as a handhold, like Angeline had. Much of it had come undone in the struggle, though.

"Your hair," repeated Dimitri. His eyes were wide, almost awestruck. "your hair is beautiful.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice