Lines From The Words Of Radiance Chasm Sequence That Made Me Think I Was Reading A Bodice Ripper Romance

Lines from the Words of Radiance chasm sequence that made me think I was reading a bodice ripper romance ahem different genre:

They range in intensity from "yeah that belongs in a romance" to "out of context that sentence would not be safe for work" to "I cannot believe Sanderson wrote that"

She looked disheveled, her blue dress scuffed and her hair a mess

He stared into her eyes. So intense. She felt a shiver meeting that expression. This was a man of passion.

She stumbled toward him in the darkness

She turned back to him, then looked down. Inadvertently, he’d grabbed her by the safehand. He let go immediately.

I doubt you’d look good in the traditional short trousers and open vest. Or, rather, you’d probably look too good. It might be a little distracting for the other bridgemen.

“Storms,” Kaladin said. “You’re not drawing a picture of you wearing one of those outfits . . .”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “I’m drawing salacious pictures of myself for you after only a few hours together in the chasm.” She scratched at a line. “You have quite the imagination, bridgeboy.”

She sat up and stretched sore limbs, checking to make sure her sleeve hadn’t come unbuttoned in the night or anything equally embarrassing.

She blushed deeply.

There was a sort of rugged handsomeness to the fellow. Like the beauty of a natural rock formation

But Kaladin’s intensity, that frightened her.

This bridgeman was proving himself different. The way he watched her, the way he thought.

Perhaps she should spend as much time wondering about this man’s motives as he apparently fretted about hers.

Why did he lose control when talking with her?

She sat back on her knees, holding up her sketch. She brushed aside an unruly lock of red hair.

Well, onward, then.” She took a deep breath. “Through soreness and exhaustion we go. You wouldn’t be willing to carry me a little ways . . .” He glared at her. She shrugged with a smile. “Think how grand it would be! I could even get a reed to whip you with.

"when we get out, everyone will cheer me for being a hero for rescuing you.” “Better,” Shallan said. “Except for the fact that I do believe that I am the one rescuing you.”

Shallan smiled, and they continued on, keeping a brisk pace. “I am glad we’re down here,” she said, “because by now, Adolin will be worried sick about me—so when we get back, he’ll be ecstatic. He might even let me kiss him in public.” Adolin. Right. That dampened his mood.

He whipped Shallan in front of him and thrust her into a fissure in the wall.

The chasm fell silent. Kaladin could hear only Shallan’s panting and his own heartbeat.

Slowly, Kaladin twisted about, putting his back to Shallan. She held him from behind, and he could feel her tremble. Stormfather. He trembled himself.

He was suddenly aware of her pressed against his back. Holding him, breath warm on his neck. She trembled, and he thought he could hear in her voice both terror and fascination at their situation.

He clung to Shallan, but their wet hands started to slip.

Kaladin pulled against the wall of the alcove, his injured leg smarting like nothing else, Shallan clinging to him. She was a warmth in his arms, and he held to her as much as she did him

He continued on, talking of his days as a slave, of his attempts to escape. Of the men he’d gotten killed for trusting him. It gushed from him, a story he’d never told.

When he finished, they both let the silence settle on them, and shared warmth. (This makes it on the list for what it sounds like, but even more importantly it comes from a place of emotional intimacy after he bared his soul to her)

Kaladin looked toward her. In a flash of light, he saw her eyes as she looked up from where her head had been resting against his chest, beads of water on her eyelashes. With his hands around her waist, hers around him, it was as close as he’d held a woman since Tarah.

“And so,” she continued, pressing her head back against his chest

For now, he wanted to think—though he was still glad for her presence. And aware of it in more ways than one, pushed against him and wearing the wet, increasingly tattered dress.

He shifted to move to climb down, but realized that Shallan, curled up against him, had fallen asleep.

This list is incomplete because at least half of the lines in the chasm sequence are open flirting and also I didn't include all of the mentions of Shallan’s dress tearing (or of her removing parts of it to make bandages). And all the blushing.