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A lack of intelligence demands an abundance of toughness. It’s nature’s most basic law. If you’re going to be dumb, you have to be tough, and if you’re neither… Well, you better pray to the Fates that you’re pretty.
“Some thoughts are so chaotic they need to be purged from your brain in order for them to make sense.”
I say as I turn and place a hand on his chest, staring up into his otherworldly eyes. They’ve always struck me as beautiful, but their endless darkness was jarring at first. Unsettling, like when you gaze off into the heavens and realize how insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things. But now? How could I ever feel small when he looks at me like I’m the center of his universe?