The worst kind of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see- the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it.
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pushing-the-limits
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Please, Noah, I don't want to do this wrong. Tell me how to make you feel good."He shifted so that his body rested beside mine, his leg and arm still draped over me. I felt small under his warmth and strength. His chocolate-brown eyes softened. "Being with you feels good. Touching you-" he tucked a curl behind my ear. "-feels good. I have never wanted anyone like I want you. There's nothing you can do wrong when just breathing makes everything right.
I've got you. I swear to God, I've got you," said Noah. "Stay with me, Echo."I wanted to. I wanted to stay with him, but the shouting and screams and glass breaking in my mind grew louder. "Make it stop."He tightened his grip on my arms. "Fight, Echo! You've got to fucking fight. Come on, baby. You're safe.
I'm right and wrong, moral and immoral, good and bad, a hero and a villain, and I've been just as capable of truth as I have been lies.