Be Honest
Irene's downcast eyes did not lift until Ilyan kept the pen down, shutting the notepad. Her hold tightened on the edge of the table upon catching a teardrop that fell on the cover page of the notepad.
Her half-filled notepad was over with him filling in every empty page with the blank ink of his broken heart. He had put his hand in his bleeding heart and pulled out every piece that was scattered inside him.
Some of them were so brutally stuck that he had to force them to come out. Regardless of how much of the sickening pain it demanded, he got out everything that was inside him. The suffering that was inside him had jumped on the pages of her notepad.
She did not break the silence that was stretching between them. Her hand reached out to the wooden box. Opening it, she pulled rose quartz from it and placed it on the table in front of him.
His orbs emitting indecipherable emotions stared at it.