There was a faint ringing in her ears that turned into a roar. And beneath it, a sudden wave of numbness, a too-familiar lack of sight or sound or feeling. She didn't know why it happened, because she had been so dead set on hating him, but . . . it would have been nice, she supposed. It would have been nice to have one person who knew the absolute truth about her—and didn't hate her for it.It would have been really, really nice.She walked away without another word. With each step she took back to her room, that flickering light inside of her guttered.And went out.
Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire
celaena-sardothien, depression, pg276, rowan-whitethorn