Meeting you was a disaster.”She raised a brow. “Thank you.”Djel, he was terrible at this. He stumbled on, trying to make her understand. “But I am grateful every day for that disaster. I needed a cataclysm to shake me from the life I knew. You were an earthquake, a landslide.”“I,” she said, planting a hand on her hip, “am a delicate flower.”“You aren’t a flower, you’re every blossom in the wood blooming at once. You are a tidal wave. You’re a stampede. You are overwhelming.
-Leigh Bardugo
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