“My god, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them? When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those... They're beautiful. You're beautiful.” — Richelle Mead Copy Share Image
My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?" That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?" "The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint… — Richelle Mead Copy Share Image
