Azriel: Torture? You don't know the first thing about torture. If I could make you suffer a fraction of the torture I experience every day, seeing her, scenting her, hearing her laugh, knowing she is out there putting kindness into the world, laying awake at night thinking how warm, how soft she would be in my arms, yearning for a touch, a taste, but being forbidden from getting close to her, forced to stand aside while her so-called mate steals the light from her smile, wishing, begging that the Cauldron had chosen me instead...
Azriel: She smells like cinnamon and strawberries, her hair is so soft and shiny, she made this delicious lemon and blueberry cake the other day, I wanted to tell her how incredible she is but all I said was thank you and disappeared into my shadows...