1 Litre Of Tears Series นิยาย & เรื่องราว

And now, he was regretting everything he has done to Leanda. Leanda's tears flowed down her cheeks like a river, hot and heavy. They were rage-filled tears, frustration-filled tears, tears that spoke of a deep hurt that no words could ever do justice to. They were accompanied by loud sobs that shook her entire body, as if she had been holding onto this pain for far too long. Her eyelashes clumped together, resembling the wings of a moth in distress. Her cheeks became blotchy and red, highlighting the depth of the pain within her. Her lips quivered with every ragged breath she took in, the sound of her sadness filling the room.

All I can do is watch. And it’s torture. Salcom pulls her toward the center of the room where it sits… the real Moon’s Tear . The bottle rests on a pedestal carved from obsidian, its surface smooth but etched with ancient markings that glows faintly, like the sun but not as bright. The Moon's Tear itself is contained in a crystal-clear glass, the liquid inside glowing with an otherworldly light that almost hurts to look at. It’s small, just a vial, really, but it radiates power so immense, so untouchable, it feels like the guards themselves are holding their breath.

Tears dropped from my eyes. . . . .

Lily. Her face was ashen, stark against the vibrant backdrop of the party. Her eyes, usually downcast and guarded, were wide with a raw disbelief that quickly morphed into stark horror. And then I saw them – the glistening tracks of tears carving paths down her pale cheeks as she stared at… at us. Like we were grotesque figures from a nightmare. That image, the sight of her tears, hit me with an unexpected force, a sharp pang that resonated deep within the unwelcome bond. It was a flicker of something I couldn’t name, a discordant note in the symphony of my anger.

If anything, the usually ice-cold Giselle was much more of a crybaby than he was. But whenever they ran into each other after they'd ended things, she didn't even shed a tear, and her tongue was sharp enough to draw blood. As for Louie, he was always seized with the urge to cry whenever he saw her. What the hell was going on? Louie couldn't think of an explanation. He whipped out his phone and urged his colleague, an ophthalmologist, to send him the results of his eye test. Perhaps all those long, complicated, and demanding surgeries had wrecked his eyesight. Maybe his tear ducts were affected by some strange condition.

"Tristan, can you give me another chance? I made a mistake. I really did! "I really don't want to lose you because of that jerk. If you give me another chance, I promise I'll make it up to you in the future." I sighed and looked at her. "There are some things that can never return to the way they were. If a simple apology could solve the problem, there wouldn't be so many tragedies in the world." I closed the door without hesitation. No matter how much Callista banged on it, I did not open it again. After half an hour, the sound of Callista's voice outside finally died down, and I received a message from her, saying, "I'll make it up to you for what happened with Jeffrey!"

I deactivated my social media accounts except for my Twitter account that became my virtual diary. I am indulging myself with tv series I can watch on Netflix. Some series there has a moral lesson that also made me realize about small things. At times like this, we need to change. “Tears can be teachers if we let them” I saw a phrase on the internet. I instantly took a screenshot of it. This quote is realistic. If we let our tears be our teachers, then it will teach us a lot of lessons in life. Crying doesn’t mean a person is weak. Crying is a way where we need to let go of the pain, sadness, and anger in our hearts. After we cry, everything will be okay.

wasn't she supposed to hate the Alphas? Tears finally rolled down my cheeks as anger and panic washed through me.

Tears streamed down Vivica’s face, and she gestured wildly towards her bandaged feet and replied, “I walked more than an hour in the sun, and I have blisters on top of blisters. However, you are acting like I just tripped in the garden. If I were really your biological daughter, wouldn't you be more outraged that your daughter was forced to hike like a peasant?” Her mother looked at her coldly, then she picked up her tea and took a sip. She scolded, her voice devoid of the pity Vivica was fishing for, “Don't be so melodramatic, Vivica. If I had picked you up from an orphanage, I would like to think I would have chosen a child with at least a shred of common sense.

~Lucienne~ As I watched the crimson beads trickle down my arms, I looked back at the broken piece of the mirror, a lovely and contented smile gracing my lips while a strange sense of calm washed over me, numbing the pain and filling me with a quiet resolve. With each cut, I felt the weight of my suffering begin to lift as if I were shedding layers of my old self along with the blood that stained my skin. But just as I started to feel the pull of unconsciousness tugging at the edges of my mind, a sharp rap at the bathroom door shattered the fragile peace I had found.