ATLAS' POV
--
There she is, standing tall, the sword I made for her gripped in her hand. Hands that look soft as her hair that seems to be made from silk as the dark tiny strands flap across her face. I wish to be those tiny strands, to feel her skin whenever I want, to be able to be so close to her and never be apart. Her eyes, a soft sage green that reminds me of open fields filled with flowers, the speckles of gold in them taking to the yellow flowers that grow wildly, wild as her soul, free as her will, and even though she can rub my nerves together, I'd rather have her do that than not have her look at me at all.
I thought I was living, that is until she looked at me-- and even though it was with utter rage and disgust, she was still looking at me, and not at Jaxon.
Her smile is s
