What are you doing?" "Ya!" said Jane, whirling around, her hands held up menacingly. It was Mr. Nobley with coat, hat, and cane, watching her with wide eyes. Jane took several quick (but oh so casual) steps away from Martin's window. "Um, did I just say, 'Ya'?" "You just said 'Ya,'" he confirmed. "If I am not mistaken, it was a battle cry, warning that you were about to attack me. I, uh..." She stopped to laugh. "I wasn't aware until this precise and awkward moment that when startled in a startled in a strange place, my instincts would have me pretend to be a ninja.
If you're listening Big Brother, I refuse to be Fanny Price.
This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?
He nodded. "And if I don't make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world every day of your life, then I don't deserve to be near you.
There was a burst of laughter so sudden Miri jumped to her feet in alarm. Bena and Liana had pushed Peder out of the bed and onto the floor. He in turn leaped on Liana's bed, clinging to it and laughing as the girls tugged at his ankles. "So, are you two betrothed?" Katar asked. "No," Miri said shortly "Ohh." Karter smirked, one eyebrow raised, and she looked altogether more like her old self. "It appears I stumbled upon a topic of conversation even more dangerous than revolution.
Your head will be fine,” said Miri. “It’s your neck you should worry about.
Razo knew he was best at nothing, except maybe cramming two cherries into a single nostril.
But when she turned her back to the lights, she saw that the night was so dark...She could not see the stars. The world felt as high as the depthless night sky and deeper than she could know. She understood, suddenly and keenly, that she was too small to run away, and she sat on the damp ground and cried.
Make haste” Jane added, just because she always wanted to say that.
I know they are naught things, but I devour novels.” (p. 57).
Her smile was peculiar - it made her nose wrinkle, not as though she smelled something unpleasant, but more that she was so amused, her whole face wanted to be a part of the smile.
No one had ever called her wild before. She wanted to be wild now, for him. Wild seemed more enticing then a bowl of berries.
Miss Hayes, have you stopped to consider that you might have this all backward? That in fact you are my fantasy?
The three girls were sitting and lying beside her, holding one another, weeping, their arms and legs and hair tangled like the roots of close trees, sobs shaking them like leaves in a high wind.
What? Don't British women know how to use their knees?
His brothers could tease him about his height or the number of scars he was collecting on his body. He could take the joke when they said he would die having never won a fair wrestling match. But the topic of Bettin still smarted too much. He'd imagined being with her always. Now when he closed his eyes, he had trouble imagining anything else.
How could you miss it? Just the sound of her voice makes my chest feel tight, my face gets hot and my mouth goes dry whenever she's near. It's getting so bad, all I have to do is see her and I'm already thinking, 'What does she want? What can I do for her?' She's got some power over me, there's no question, and what else could it be? ~Razo
...'Goose girl, may I kiss you?' She answered by... kissing him first.
Finn leaped from his horse to greet Enna, and she entwined herself into him, their arms around each other, their faces close. Thoug they did not kiss, Rin thought that the way they looked at each other was even more intimate. 'Let's get married,' Enna was saying with yearning in her voice. 'Please, let's get married right now.' Finn put his face into her neck and whispered something that made her hum.
... fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women.
Get back in my cot, girl," said Gilsa. "You're sickly." No, I'm not," said Ani. Oh, no? Well, maybe stubbornness is a sickness, did you ever think of that?
I'm sorry Finn. I'm a wooden-headed dummy.' Don't be so hard on yourself,' said Finn. 'You're just a straw-brained scarecrow.
I'm Razo, a member of Bayern's Own," he said, stopping himself from adding "Loafing is just a hobby of mine." "Bayern's Own? But you're a child." Razo looked up to the sky. "I'm not a child, I'm just short.
He did a very good impression of a stone column.
What should I say? That I like him so much it hurts?
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