Her Tears Are His Weakness Novels & Stories

he joked. "You are just saying this to make me happy," I replied. He sat up, pulling me up beside him. Cupping my face, he wiped off the stray tears. "Shedding of tears is not a sign of weakness but great strength. That means you are not cold and vicious, you care even for those who are strangers to you, those who are weak, the unfortunate ones who require protection. You are a gentle soul, with a sweet, compassionate and tender heart. But you are also strong and fierce when the situation demands it when injustice is done."

So far, only this bastard ever called me by my fake name. I closed my eyes and imagined the day I woke up without Blade. Tears instantly rolled down my cheeks. And then I answered, “As far as you want me to, your majesty.” Something flashed in his eyes when he saw my tears. He licked my tears away. “Don’t cry. I am not going to kill you.” I was right. All men are weak to women’s tears, no matter their status and no matter what they are. “Thank you very much, your majesty-“

"Because if I did, it would just prove them right. Defending you would make you look weaker. I thought, I thought you understood." I shook my head, tears spilling hot down my cheeks. "I can't do this anymore. I can't be your weakness." He made a strangled sound in his throat and pulled me in, crushing me to his chest. I went stiff for a second, then melted, sobbing into his shirt. His arms locked around me like iron. "You're not my weakness," he whispered. "You're the only thing that keeps me strong." I couldn't answer. I couldn't even breathe.

She groaned as she looked at Sophia, her breathing heavy, but she tried to stand. “You’re going insane. You’re no longer my sister who always protects me, and you’re no longer the Sophia I adore!” she exclaimed as she wiped the blood from her lips. “Why did you change? Why did you let yourself be their puppet?!? And why did you destroy the family we have?” she cried, looking at Sophia. “They’re just using you! Don’t you feel that? They use your weakness, so you listen to what they tell you! You have no side with anyone, Sophia, because even your mother is just using you!” she bit her lip and cried as she looked at Sophia.

She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. “Why do you say that?” “Because I cry too much to be brave. Brave people don’t cry.” “Brave people cry, Yanaha. Everyone cries. Tears aren’t a sign of weakness, my love.” “Yes, they are,” he said as his eyes squeezed shut in a botched attempt to prevent more tears falling. “They have to be.” He bit down on his bottom lip and his whole body was rigid as he failed to control the trembling rippling from head to toe.

“You were the only one who understood me more than anyone else. And now I feel so alone, my little sis. Why are you not here…? Why… this has to be me? Why does it have to be you who is gone?” Wiping his tears with the back of his hand, he continued, “you know what the saddest part is, I am not even able to take revenge for you. I don’t know the more I get close to her, the more I get weak and lose control. I am not even able to hate her… why… Why am I growing this weak? I was not this before? What is it, that is making me grow weaker and weaker?’ Suddenly, one after another droplets of water fall on him. But he didn't care about it. He kept on watching the tomb absently.

If anyone didn’t deserve to die, it was her. It was then that something in him broke and he knew he’d never be the same again. The pain, the agony crashed into him with such force that he staggered. His lungs were gasping for air and his heart screamed in anguish as darkness closed in on him. Her words seemed to float up to him from another time, another world. “Crying is not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that you’ve been strong for too long…” And so Lucas fell to his knees and wept.

I wasn’t disgusted, neither was I pulling away. His entire body went still beneath my touch, it felt like nobody touched him gently often enough for him to know what to do with it. My heart dropped painfully at the realization. “You hide it,” I said softly. His eyes stayed locked on mine. “People see weakness and they use it against you.” “And how does this make you weak?” A bitter look crossed his face briefly. “You don’t survive my world by giving people imperfections to exploit.” I stared at him for a second. What does that even mean?

Lucien froze. The instinctive flicker of irritation came first, sharp and immediate. He loathed weakness. Tears had never moved him, not from women begging for forgiveness, not from men bleeding out at his feet. He had learned young that tears were a tool, a weapon in disguise, a last-ditch effort to wring pity from the merciless. And he refused to be its prey. And yet, he didn’t turn away. He lingered in the doorway, one hand tightening around the carved edge of the frame, eyes locked on the fragile rise and fall of her back. Her shoulders trembled, each motion a betrayal of how hard she tried to stay quiet.

"You are Eros's weakness." I looked at her stunned, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks. "Every powerful man has a weakness." She continued to speak, "And your condition is his." "I do not understand." "Of course you won't." She barked out laughter, "You are dumb as hell." "Will you speak or insult me?"