Her mouth is red from where his stubble scratched her, her hands are still trembling, her wrists aching from where he pinned them to the wall. He had laughed and smiled with her and their little group from the kitchens whose evening away from work was spent in the tavern but when she left he followed her and in the cloistered garden beside the statue of Andraste he grabbed at her and kissed her. She got away, fleeing to the battlements while he, drunk, tripped in his pursuit and shouted up at her as she escaped.

“Do you want me to kill him?” Cole asked, and she looked up in shock—from his perch on the wall he stared at her intently, all the planes of his face sharpened by the shadows into firm, clear points. She shook her head. He simply put a hand on her shoulder as she fought to breathe again.

 She’s Bri, calyxofawildflower's oc (the text is also hers), who is writing some awesome drabbles about these two and is destroying my life in the best way imaginable.

 I strongly recommend checking them out, she writes beautifully and treats Cole and his relationship with Bri in the most respectful and sweet way possible (i’m dying to read the whole fic!).