He shouldn't have said that," repeated Adrian, eerily serious. He leaned his face toward mine. "I don't care if he's not the emotional type or the complimentary type or what. No one can look at you in this dress, in all that fire and gold, and start talking about anachronisms. If I were him, I would have said, 'You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking this earth.

No, thank you," said Adrian. "These hands don't sully themselves with fighting.

your eyes... they're beautiful.you're beautiful." *sigh*

Considering Adrian had once gotten bored while reading while reading a particularly long menu, I had a hard time imagining he'd read the Hugo book in any language.

You should know better.ʺ ʺIʹve never known better,ʺ he countered. ʺYou should know that.

If I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.I'd dream about the way you smell and how your dark hair feels like silk between my fingers. I'd dream about the smoothness of your skin and the fierceness of your lips when we kiss. Without dreams,I have to be content with my own imagination—which is almost as good. I can picture all those things perfectly.

Dreams, dreams. I walk them; I live them. I delude myself with them. It's a wonder I can spot reality anymore.