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“Every time you see me, I’m broken,” he admitted, twisting his fingers together. He looked like he’d exposed his heart and offered me a dagger. What did he think? That I judged him? “Leng,” I said gently, hobbling to where he was. “I will always be broken. It doesn’t make me weak. When I see you hurt it doesn’t make you weak.” — Sarah K.L. Wilson
Every time you see me, I’m broken,” he admitted, twisting his fingers together. He looked like he’d exposed his heart and offered me a dagger. What did he think? That I judged him?
“Leng,” I said gently, hobbling to where he was. “I will always be broken. It doesn’t make me weak. When I see you hurt it doesn’t make you weak.