he’s just a boy and I’m just a girl.
that’s not true, is it?
fifteen may be a number, but it’s bigger than that. Bigger than us.
number that separates us.
that keeps us apart.
willing to give in until I get what I want.
how many other girls can bring a grown man to his knees with one little smile?
“You want me to teach you how to play piano?”
about learning to love people’s faults and pain for what they are. Beautiful.”
don’t get to choose which parts. You’re getting every single piece of their
being, scarred or not.”
marks. My fingers graze over each one, causing her to suck in a breath and
freeze as I caress the marred flesh. They’re rougher than the rest of her hand,
but part of her nonetheless.
Neither of us says a thing or moves an inch. We just remain touching, staring,
being there in one another’s company.