I saw Fela turn her head to look at Simmon, almost as if she were surprised to see him sitting there.
No, it was almost as if up until that point, he’d just been occupying space around her, like a piece of furniture. But this time when she looked at him, she took all of him in. His sandy hair, the line of his jaw, the span of his shoulders beneath his shirt. This time when she looked, she actually saw him.
Let me say this. It was worth the whole awful, irritating time spent searching the Archives just to watch that moment happen. It was worth blood and the fear of death to see her fall in love with him. Just a little. Just the first faint breath of love, so light she probably didn’t notice it herself. It wasn’t dramatic, like some bolt of lightning with a crack of thunder following. It was more like when flint strikes steel and the spark fades almost too fast for you to see. But still, you know it’s there, down where you can’t see, kindling.
Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man’s Fear (via the-secrets-behind-the-covers)
This is an example of how genius Patrick Rothfuss is with words. This is one of my favorite passages and it makes me practically fall in love with Simmon, too. What other author describes falling in love the way he does. When he talks about meeting Denna again, there are no words for how happy these books make me.