Warrens Curse

“Do you have anything else to say?” she mused quietly, her voice filled with a lingering bitterness.

He knew that she didn’t trust his words, no matter what.

He could have poured his heart out right then and there, just for the sake of her believing in him, but staring at those numb eyes, he knew he would never reach her. Never unless she would lower those walls.

But these walls were higher than the Empire State Building, higher than the Burj Khalifa in Dubai. He knew, for he could see them just by looking at the way her slightly crooked nose crinkled at the sight of him.

No matter what he was going to say or do, it would not change her heart.

A heart that had been torn by many, yet somehow she had managed to recover each time.

He didn’t stand in front of some broken, scared girl.

He was standing in front of a survivor.

In front of a fighter that had grown wiser with each new scar.

He stood in front of a girl, cursed by life itself, but she had learned to deal with it.

His heart clenched in his chest as he stared at her, those eyes that had looked at him once with happiness and kindness, had now hardened to ice.

The stormy gray that had once stirred lively in the pools of her soul, had turned to an almost black color.

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