Her Tears Are His Weakness Novels & Stories

"And you picked Demon. Out of all the people." Her face didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—annoyance, maybe. "Demon knows power. He knows how to take it. Kieran was always too soft. All that strength and still acting like he had a conscience." My stomach turned. “Soft? Kieran? Are we talking about the same person?” She shrugged. "You think he's strong because he's cold. But inside? He still believes in love. Loyalty. That stuff makes you weak."

“Alive. For leverage. My own mother—” His jaw flexed, a muscle ticking sharply. “She failed.” Fresh tears spilled hot down my cheeks, silent at first, then turning into faint, choking cries that shook my shoulders. I hated it—hated feeling weak, hated crying in front of him—but the terror crashed over me in waves, relentless.

“You don’t get it. You never did. Megan is broken, Father. She almost died tonight. And you want me to… what? Walk in there and tell her to try again like nothing happened?” “Yes.” His tone was unyielding. “That’s exactly what you do. Because sentiment makes men weak. Do you think your enemies will care that you lost a child? They’ll see it as weakness. And weakness is death.” I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding. “If that’s what strength is to you…if that’s what it means to be your son, then maybe I’d rather be weak.”

The only thing I could do was offer comfort as I just allowed him to cry his eyes out. My father always told me that a man does not cry. He perceived tears as a sign of weakness, and I felt the same way too. The last time a tear dropped from my eyes was when I was still a kid. My thought was that it would only portray my weakness, but seeing Adrian cry today has changed that perspective. Crying does not equal weakness, it shows courage and emotional expression is essential for healing. After he finished crying, I could tell that he was tired and exhausted. So I just took him straight to my bed where he fell asleep soon after and I've been watching him over an hour ago.

Although he had seen me in my most defenseless state , there was this hesitation in the back of my mind. " Sophia , look at me." Taking a deep breath, I looked at him. His piercing gaze was fixed intently on me yet nothing was discomforting about it. " You're not weak and you're definitely not behaving like a baby . That was indeed a dreaded experience you had there and all this has been overwhelming which is not helping your emotions. It's okay to cry, to let out but that doesn't make you weak. So don't you dare call yourself weak. You're one strong woman, Sophia." The amount of sincerity in his voice had my heart melted into a puddle. The love I had for this man was increasing every day.

His green eyes pierced straight through my defenses. "But I know your real weakness." "And what's that?" I breathed.. "Your weakness is that you care. You feel, even though you don't want to." His hand came up to cup my cheek gently. The tenderness was more devastating than any aggression. It made my chest ache. It made tears prick at my eyes. "You hate us because you want us," Percy said softly. "And you hate wanting us because of who we are." The tears fell from my eyes before I could stop them. "Your father murdered my family."

“You are more than worthy, Lisa.” His words were so emotional that I did not notice my eyes closed in their own, savoring the sweetness of his words. I have heard from somewhere that a person’s strength can also be their weaknesses, and where they feel weak, they find that strength as well. And I noticed it in him. Chad is touchy when the topics become emotional. He is weak at that, and I respect that in him. I know the reasons behind those vulnerabilities more than anyone else, so I never make him feel he is alone with his battles. Emotional battles.

My body going weak as well. I placed my hand on his arm snapping him back to reality. He removed his head from his hands, he lifted his eyes and met mine. His eyes alone spoke every word. He looked at me, his pain making the ache even worse. And then he allowed himself to let it out. A single tear escaped past his eye and trickled down his cheek. The same happened to me, the tears i kept inside decided to come out now. "She is really not coming back." He said and shook his head. His voice like his eyes. Weak and vulnerable.

"Don't cry, goodness." He quickly stood up and embraced her tightly in his arms. It's tearing him apart. "This is why you're my weakness, Lily…I can't afford to see you crying or hurt, that's my fvcking weakness." Frederick sighed while watching both of them a bit far from them. "She's doing the right thing," he uttered to Leonora and Frederick. "Yeah, it is not right to have weakness. That must be forbidden to us," Leonora commented while watching the nurse take care of her wound. It would definitely leave a scar.

The unspoken words between them hung heavily in the air, a reminder of all that had been lost and the fragile hope Marcus still clung to. He knew that at any moment, his tears would fall. The dam he had built over the years, the wall of stoicism and strength, was beginning to crack under the weight of his emotions. But he refused to let it happen. From a young age, Marcus had taught himself that tears were a sign of weakness, something a man should never show, especially not in front of those who needed his strength. His father, once a towering figure in his life, had been a model of that kind of strength—silent, enduring, and unshakable.