Authors:

My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?" That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?" "The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those..." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful.

Richelle Mead (2011). “Bloodlines”, p.263, Penguin
My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them? That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. What about them? The color, he breathed. When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold.