He stared at her with such tender warmth as he finally drew parallel with someone who'd been through as much as him.
And she too took warmth in the benevolent eyes that gazed at her whole hearted countenance for who she truly was.
Until a stream o...
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"Everyone has a story to tell, everyone is a writer. Some are written in the books and some are confined to hearts.'' — anonymous. ➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵
'No please, no. I don't want the gift please.' The footsteps quickened. What was this feeling, why was I so scared? The doorknobs turn would be the commencing of a fatal evening. My heart, running a marathon, my brain seemingly managing to stay sane. I banged on the window in hopes of someone hearing my desperation. Still searching for a clue, an answer on I could escape. I looked around, there were so many presents, still refined, wrapped up... untouched, of the precise position at which he left it. I hated them all.
'Princess, I'm coming.' A voice lurked through the thin walls. The bitter hatred I felt as he called me that. 'STOP IT PLEASE!!'
