Broken But Beautiful Novels & Stories

"Come on, it's just a drawing. Shawn can whip up another one in no time. And don't forget, he's the one who got us into this mess! "Sue's been in a creative slump lately and can't seem to create anything she's satisfied with. She's lost her passion for painting, and to make things worse, Shawn ruined her hand. "Now she flinches and freaks out every time she sees a drawing!" Zach struck the lighter, and the flame sprang to life with a soft whoosh. "I'm begging you. Please, don't do this!" I dropped to my knees, desperately pleading with Zach. The glass shards dug into my skin, and blood started to trickle down.

So I chose the second option, I ignored her. The broken mess I had seen her become after the accident had done something to me. And at that point, I’d realised how fragile she was. I might've started with the thought of breaking her but now seeing the glimpse of it made me want to ruin everything until she smiles back. Somehow the incident made me look at her like something that could be broken if I didn’t handle with care. And, she was too beautiful to even make a crack on her fierce personality.

Clarissa asked. "I'm drained already Rissa, I don't want to discuss it." "I don't care what's going between you both, but that guy isn't someone you should sound so cold to. He's cute!" She said. "And I'm not apologetic about it," Frances said. "Are you grabbing this opportunity or I should do it myself?" Clarissa asked. "Whatever you wish," Frances said. She picked up the watch to look at the button, but resisted the urge to touch it. She'd show it to her mom first before using it.

Eugene said, resting his head against mine as we watched our happy family. Even though we didn't have a fairytale beginning and had a lot of ups and downs in our progressing relationship, we met each other halfway. We were too scared to light the spark between us, afraid it might break us both in the end. And even though we were both broken, Eugene more than me, we took each other's broken pieces and built each other up again. We were two broken hearts who met each other at the most unexpected time, and we each gave our half to the other to mend the broken parts. We were there for each other, sometimes just lagging a bit behind, but we were there. And if this wasn't what one would call love,

I whispered to myself staring at her thin, lean but clean and beautiful hand, threading her fingers with mine and imprinting every little detail of it to memory. “I don’t know how to deal with them. I don’t know how to take care of them. They are so broken that I can’t even recognize them. Heck, I am barely hanging on myself.” I shook my head and stared at her face. She just laid there with her eyes closed, face so beautiful like she had just dropped straight from the skies.

"What do you gain?" "Nothing. Everything." I moved to the window beside her. "I've been where you are. Broken. Controlled. Used as a weapon. Someone helped me. Now I help others. That's how it works." "What if we can't be fixed? What if we're too broken?" "Then we learn to live broken. Find strength in the cracks. Build something new from the pieces." I met her eyes. "You're not alone. None of you are. Not anymore."

It's just that, My heart broke, And mended, With you, On the outside, And then he came, And you left, Forever. Once I was a glass figurine, perfect to the eye, fragile underneath. Since you used your words as weapons I am ground to the finest of dust - still glass, yet vulnerable to any gust. I still feel pain, so much raw pain, but I can't be broken anymore. You did your worst, but I am still here, sparkling in the midwinter light.

’ I say as Edmond comes to sit beside me. ‘I love you mate’ I tell him as I stare up at him, right through his eyes. ‘I love you too a billion times’ he says as he devours my mouth. My life is so full now and I would never exchange this for nothing in the world. If there is one thing I have learnt, it is that nothing really is impossible because if a broken Pieces of a heart could be fixed, then everything can be fixed once you find the right people. The end.

He took a deep breath and continued. "I can't take the weight of your love, I just can't. I'm getting lost on you, I feel like you'll be safe in the hands of another. I'm beyond damaged, I'm broken to the core. There are times I've felt maybe I'm not broken, just bent, but now, now I know I'm broken. Despite knowing broken things still work, I also know there's an expiry date. Broken things work till they don't."

I told him about my brother, about my mother, about the guilt I still carried, about the nights I had spent crying myself to sleep. "We're both broken," he said, his hand in mine. "Maybe. But maybe broken things can be fixed. Maybe broken things can be made whole again." "Or maybe they can be loved despite the cracks. Maybe the cracks are what make them beautiful." I looked at him, at the man who had broken my heart and put it back together more times than I could count, at the man who had seen me at my worst and stayed. "I like that better. I like that a lot."