If I were to lock you up in a dungeon, I guarantee you would not be bored.

The combination of razor-sharp wit (completely real) and his credentials (completely fake) had won them over in the end.

The last declaration he'd made to me hung between us. The L word. The one that had nothing to do with like.

Plus, I happened to be a history nerd. Why else would I be interested in a guy born in the year 519?

Well, can you tell her that?"
He looked down at his feet. "I will. I will."
Guy-speak for, "I plan to keep avoiding her until she gives up.

Why did you wear heels? How are you supposed to fight a gargoyle in what you're wearing?