A life is not a waste of time

He didn't know what else to do, how to comfort her, so he simply held her, held the only person in the world who had ever cried for him

But you, you’ve always been the rain, the wind, inside my mind. I taste you when I sleep, when I wake, when I breathe.

He couldn’t say the words, had spent too long in Silence, but he’d learned other ways to speak. Taking the paperweight she’d knocked off her desk out of his pocket, he put it in her hands. “It’s fixed. As long as you don’t mind more than a few scars.

He was strong. And his heart, it was breaking.

You,” she murmured, using both hands to undo his belt, “are the sexiest man I have ever met.” He made her think bad thoughts simply by breathing.

Maybe, just maybe, two broken people could manage to create something whole.