Pleun

“Kevin watched him work with a distant gaze. ​“When did you learn how to cook?” he asked. ​
“Cat is teaching me,” Jean said. He could have left it at that, but after a beat, he admitted, “I like it. It makes everything else go away for a while.” ​
He’d never hesitated to join Cat in the kitchen, but this was the first time he’d offered such an unguarded opinion of it. The smile that curved Cat’s lips was gentle; the look Laila sent Jean was fond. Kevin studied Jean like he wasn’t quite sure who he was looking at: not with any trepidation, but quietly reevaluating a man he’d known for so many years. For a moment Jeremy felt the history between them and was dizzy; in another he was keenly aware there was too much there for him to ever understand. ​
Kevin offered Jean a second arepa, waited for Jean to reach for it, and said, “I’m glad.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Golden Raven

“I’m not learning French for anyone but you.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Golden Raven

“​“I like pink,” Cat said. “Laila’s is purple. What about you?” ​Jean frowned as he thought it over, gaze drifting over the assortment of clothes piled in their shopping cart. At last he settled on the only one that made sense: “Brown.” It was not the answer Cat was expecting, judging by her reaction, but Jean didn’t waste his time explaining. Brown like the soil in Rhemann’s garden, or the sand where the tide washed ashore, or the dirt roads Cat had led him down time and again. Brown like the gaze that sought Jean out in every room, but that last thought wasn’t one he could linger on.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Golden Raven

“He was their family. They were his. They were worth every cut and bruise and scream.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Raven King