8
" Why did you come?” Gaia asked, passing over his shirt.
“I wanted to see you,” he said.
“That’s all? No problem with the crims or anything?”
It seemed like so long ago that he’d left the crims to come into the village to find her. He fingered his shirt, which was all but dry. “No. Just you.”
“You’re awfully untalkative for a guy who came all this way to see me,” she said. He glanced up again, seeing the concern in her eyes when she smiled at him. His loneliness began to thaw.
“You were amazing in there, you know,” he said.
She shook her head, turning his hat in her hands. “I hope I didn’t boss you around too much. I can get a little single-minded.”
“Hardly at all. ‘Take yer boots off and git yerself in here,’” he drawled. "
― Caragh M. O'Brien , Ruled (Birthmarked, #2.5)
15
" Would you have this?” the Protectorat hissed at his son.
Rafael's gaze narrowed in a slow inspection while she stared defiantly back. Rafael's gaze faltered, shot briefly toward Leon, and then down. His answer was obvious: no.
And in spite of everything, in the face of all the other more important dangers that threatened her, it still stung that someone, some boy, found her ugly. Gaia burned with sudden hate for all of them.
The Protectorat saw. He smiled slightly.
“I thought not,” said the Protectorat, releasing her with a flick. He turned back toward his family. “I can't thrust her on any family I know, no matter what her genes are. She's a freak, not a hero. I'd rather make a hero out of Myrna Silk.”
Leon had been standing tensely throughout this exchange. “I'd take Gaia,” Leon said, his low voice resonating in the space. "
― Caragh M. O'Brien , Birthmarked (Birthmarked, #1)