Beautiful Scars Maximillian Lyrics Novels & Stories

Yusuf said, groaning once again and cursing out loud. "You know damn well who I am talking about," he replied. "Don't make me ask again." Aminu stepped into the living room then, followed closely by Halima who was still sobbing silently. As all three pairs of eyes met, a sudden silence fell upon the room. Halima's landed on Yusuf, and a look of pain and shock crossed hers. Aminu's fell on Yusuf as well, except his was a look of loathing and disgust. As for Yusuf however, his eyes were covered by a look of distant sorrow; of what could have been but never came to be. His eyes fell on only Halima, the woman for whom he'd forsaken everything. The pain tore through him like a knife, setting his

"It's not a dream, Max. Everything is real. I... Fuck, touch... Why don't you... You're so dead. Emilia will kill you both" *****************************************

He thought he had just passed the time in some condo or house in Manila, not knowing he had gone far away. “I won’t ask anything from you, Grandpa. Just give me a moment to fix everything. Prepare yourself. Prepare your heart—and no weakness allowed.” “Marcus!” Max scolded irritably, but Marcus only smiled as he looked at him. After a short while, Max noticed something on his face. “What happened to that long scratch on your face, huh?” Marcus immediately touched his face and felt a stinging sensation on his cheek. Damn. It was from Laureth’s acrylic nails.

Deep down, a part of me was terrified. Somehow, all my years of fighting to the top had vanished, and I had reverted to the scared, crying little girl who had been ripped from the comfort of her parents' arms in the dead of night. Alone. Defenseless. Maxwell didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at me, his cold, calculating eyes picking apart every sliver of fear on my face. A strangled exhale escaped my lips. His dark, messy hair fell lazily across his face, a jagged scar running from the top of his head, narrowly missing his eye before terminating at the bottom of his chiseled jaw.

One more time One more time Can’t you be by my side one more time I still love you and only you Love is better than regretting later One more time One more time Singing and crying to ease the pain ,Rissa suddenly wish Ben never left .

Maximus replied timidly and quickly turned his gaze back to Draco and Jasmine “Save… me.. me… the.. I beg you Jasmine… mister save me from this place and villagers….” Maximus cried, his tear stained face was already lingered with pain “Maximus... if you are so scared then why don’t you and your friend just escape from this village… you can runaway…” Jasmine questioned him scrunched eyebrow “I.. I can’t…. we… we are marked” Maximus replied and rolled up sleeves of his right hand and showed up his right hand…

Unscarred. Perfect. I laugh under my breath. Bitter and sharp. Maxwell is never short of women. There’s always someone at his side. Someone beautiful. Someone who doesn’t carry baggage, a child, a curse of silence and survival. I should’ve known better than to believe that someone like me could ever— “Beatrice?” Mae’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts. “You okay?” I nod quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just got a little flour in my eye.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Alora’s eyes flicked up to him, recognition dawning through the panic. Her lips trembled, and for a moment, she just stared at him, unsure. She wanted to trust him, but the fear was too strong—Seraphina’s cruel face, the ghostly image of Alysha—everything felt too overwhelming. Maximilian noticed the tear stains on her cheeks, and his protective instincts flared. “I promise,” he whispered, “no one will hurt you. Not Seraphina. Not anyone.” He kept his hand extended, waiting for her to make the choice.

* * * Max’s POV * * * I wish I can say that over the years I have gotten used to people dying. I never have. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I care for dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter” either. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My pain and my scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even burned or lacerated, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger th