Snippet #1938198

Zenith gave a small frown of thought, wondering what her thought process was that she was so absorbed in before he arrived. A blush arose when she asked him about what he had said. "..." He scratched the back of his neck, hoping the tinge of red would not be so noticable. She seemed to be distracted with another thought, mumbling something about fishing. He would have been content to leave the subject as it was, but his mouth decided otherwise.

"Because I had thought that only Heaven could have made a woman so beautiful."

The blush furrowed as his mouth betrayed his attraction to the woman. He mentally cursed; how was this happening and why? He was one who showed no emotion, who was strong until he was broken. The rock. The stone. It was his guise; his mask. As eyes met, though, and his red pierced through the ocean of blue to the soul beneath; a soul which was battered, bruised, and confused. His earlier statement about family had certainly not done well with her conscious thoughts. What he said, he soon realized, was more than just truth...it was also what she needed to hear. Something she had not heard in a long time, if ever.