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She looked around the room, glanced over him and Micah waited. Her Gaze passed him, then again. On the third pass she lingered as she continued to watch her, allowing his gaze to memorize those features just before her eyes met his. A jolt od power flashed through him. Her ligth blue eyes flickered with interest, fear, then interest again, as though she wasn't certain which she should feel. He let his gaze continue to hers, let his mind reach out to her, soothe her, ease her. He used his eyes rather than his expression to calm the fear that he knew he would be rising within her. Micah knew the power of a look. When two people touched from across a distance, that touch could be frightening, wary, or a stroke of gentleness. He stroked her gently. He never let his eyes dip below her chin; rather, he let himself take in every nuance of expression, every shift of each facial motion, the flicker of her lashes, the shadows in her eyes, the tension in her small body. She was like a little bird ready to fly. Poised at the edge of her seat.her body stiff and prepared to run. Easy, little bird, he thought, letting his thoughts touch his gaze. There is no pain here; there is no fear. ↗
...It’s hard to watch the game we make of love, like everyone’s playing checkers with their scars, saying checkmate whenever they get out without a broken heart. Just to be clear I don’t want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered there’s gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts. ↗
Ah, if everyone was as sensitive as you! There's no girl who hasn't gone through that. And it's all so unimportant! ↗
Don't worry I won't embarrass you. I'm just going to check out his friends. Maybe his grades and definitely his track record with the ladies.” “Jackson Ryan Taylor, I swear to whatever holy being there maybe that I will personally rip you a...” “Whoa, calm down. She's violent,” he whispered only for Danny. “Can't I be concerned?” “Yes, so long as you keep your mouth shut.” “What?” “Not a word, Jack. I mean it.” “Moira...” “Not a word!” I stormed out of the bathroom and that was the end of that conversation ↗
You better not be touched by love; you are living peacefully. But if you do, you better not be left by it. Because The Wounded in love is only shreds of heart scattered. Even if you manage to regain your heart, you will never be that peaceful person again. Such is the curse of love. ↗
Who fixes broken people? Is it only other broken people, ones who've already been ruined? And do we need to be fixed? It was the messiness and hurt in our pasts that drove us, and that same hurt connected us at a subdermal level, the kind of scars written so deeply in your cells that you can't even see them anymore, only recognize them in someone else. ↗
When I look at each of my brothers, I see two things. First, I see the next place I want to leave a rosy welt. Second, I see a good man who will always be there, no matter how hard life gets for me or him. Then, I get out of the way because I realize he’s coming at me with a wet dish towel. ↗
