Her Tears Are His Weakness Novels & Stories

My hand fell to my side, and for the first time in years, tears streamed freely. So this was it. He’d finally found my weakness.

Her eyes burned, her chest tightened, her breath faltered every time she thought of Thor, of Isabela, of that altar. Suddenly, she snapped off the TV with a sharp click and turned to Zoe, tears brimming. “Enough of playing tough, Zoe. I’m sad. I want to cry. The love of my life is marrying someone else. A psychopath who wants to destroy me because she’s obsessed with him!” Zoe, as compassionate as ever, took her hand. “Friend, it’s not weakness to cry. Everyone—no matter how strong—has their breaking point. They get low. They cry. And that’s okay.”

“I don’t flinch anymore. I don’t panic. I don’t lose sleep.” “But?” “But when I thought something might’ve happened to you, my hands were shaking.” That stunned her. “You don’t shake,” she whispered. “I did.” He let out a quiet, annoyed breath. “I hate that.” “Why?” “Because it means there’s a weakness.” She grabbed his face gently and made him look at her. “That’s not weakness.” “It is in my world.” “No,” she said firmly. “It’s love.” He held her gaze. “Love gets people killed,” he muttered.

he whispers, gently rubbing my back. I shake my head. “Laurel, there is a sacredness in tears, they are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than a thousand prayer recitals. Your tears, they are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.” He pulls back and brushes away the wet strands of hair that are now plastered on my face. “You can cry.” And I do. The dam that had held my tears, grief, bitterness and anger in check finally burst and I let out an ear-piercing scream; a scream that curses at the Moon Goddess for taking away the man I love, for being so relentlessly cruel and unfair.

He ruined everything because he wasn’t strong enough. He flopped on the ground as tears fell down his face. His father was right he was weak and now he was seeing it. He couldn’t keep anyone safe. Not his mother and not even his mate. The two things in the world that loved him more then anything and he failed them. He was a failure, he was good for nothing. His tears kept hitting the ground as his dragon began to disappear and his human form taking place.

He carried an aura so powerful it cleared the stench of fear still hanging in the room. He walked toward me with that unhurried confidence, crouched in front of me, and locked eyes. That's when a single tear slipped free and traced over my already-soaked face. Just one. "You can cry if you want." His voice was low, almost musical in its hush, echoing through the silence. I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, voice scratchy but firm. "Crying's useless. I learned that the hard way with Marcus. It's just ammo for people to laugh at your weakness."

he whispered, his voice breaking as tears continued to stream down his face and all his strength leaving his knees weak. “It’s one line... It’s one fucking line.”

As the water made contact with his body, he closed his eyes and found himself reminiscing about the events that took place a few hours prior. Unable to shake off the thoughts of her from his mind, he found himself repeatedly replaying the image of her tears. His intention was to kill that bastard and take her with him, but her tears had weakened him, leading him to leave her behind. He couldn't help but be overwhelmed with anger towards himself for succumbing to weakness in the face of her tears. He knew he shouldn't feel anything for her, yet he couldn't resist feeling powerless in the presence of her tears. He's supposed to be a monster towards her. He wanted to make her suffer in front of

He growled quite loudly now because of the new seering pain his body suddenly developed when he noticed the cuffs around his wrist. He looked at a door which looked hidden behind him in pain as if he was begging someone to just walk in there. Tears were threatening to drop from his eyes as he couldn't remember or believe how he could turn into what he was now within a very short time, but he stubbornly held back, silently warning himself never to remove that weak water from his eyes ever again. Weak water! He called it that because he believed anyone who shed tears was only just weak. Whatever situation a person was isn't supposed to allow him to start shedding weak tears thereby wasting the

" I glared at him, allowing him to see all the hate I felt. To my surprise, that made him laugh out loud. I watched him wordlessly, wondering what was funny. "You can fool everybody, maybe even yourself too baby girl...but you. Can't. Fool. Me." He rubbed his thumb over my lip and I had no choice but to open my mouth. He dips his thumb inside and coats it with my saliva before bringing it out. "You care too much and that's your weakness. A shame that it's also going to be your downfall too." He pulled away from me, dropping his hand but made no move to stand up. "Having empathy is being weak, but being afraid to care...that's the definition." I throw back at him.