#vipedits

A deep breath moves through him like a sigh, and then he blinks as though coming out of a fog. When he looks at me again, his eyes are bright, like green glass in the sun. A man’s eyes shouldn’t be that expressive. It makes a woman forget to keep up her defenses. “Stells,” he whispers, “where have you been all my life?” A lump rises in my throat. “Drifting.” The corner of his lip quirks. “Well, stop. Don’t drift away.” “Okay.” It’s a croak of sound, my chest too tight for more. His expression twists and becomes pained. “You wouldn’t be so quick to agree if you really knew what I was thinking.”

“You use your body like a weapon, a perfect shell so no one bothers to look too closely at the real you.” [...] “And you do it to be strong. Because you hate weakness.” “Yes,” he rasps. “Only I believe you are my greatest weakness now, chatty girl.” My camera lowers, and I stare at him, unwilling to hide my hurt. “You hate me?” He blinks as if trying to break out of a fog. Color tints his cheeks, and his breath kicks up once more. “I think,” he says, “adore would be the better word.”

His dark eyes shine with emotion. “You are Liberty Bell. The woman whose guitar playing and voice brought me to my knees. You were born for music.” His fingers squeeze just enough to hold my attention. “Nothing anyone says can take that away. You belong here.”