One minute was not going to fix twenty-one years of reinforcement that she didn't deserve happiness, that she was incapable of being loved, but somehow, being in his arms, seeing the earnest expression's searing gaze, it didn't seem like it was such an impossibility. The hands resting on his shoulders slid to around his neck and she raised herself up on tiptoes, pressing her lips to his. He was going to be good to her, he was going to be good to Amissa, he really was going to love them, even when she could be as wild, unpredictable, unloving as she might be—in his arms, that's what she knew. But she was afraid what would happen when she stepped out of them, and so clung to him with a kind of desperation she had not let herself feel since she'd walked out of those doors ten days prior.
"Please don't break my heart," she murmured to herself, even when it should have been words he spoke to her.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
