My Tears Novels & Stories

I walk close to her and wake her up. “Hey, wake up. What’s happening to you?!” I can’t call her by her name. I still don’t know what’s her name. When she wakes up. She suddenly hugs me and does not care–I am half naked. She cried aloud down my chest. Her tears mix up the water on my body from the shower. HANA’S Point of View

He is crying, seeing how lifeless the man looks. "I-I-I-I'm so s-s-sorry. M-May your-r-rest in p-p-peace!" he cries out. Chris wipes away the tears. He stops looking at the dead man. He turns around and walks back to the car. He opens the passenger's side, sits down, and close the door. Brian notices that his partner is crying. "Come on, ginger! Man up!" he forcefully tells him. "You know you will not get away with this. Your actions will come back and bite you in the ass," he warns him.

princess : how many years you'll hide your tears from me mom me : what do you mean princess princess : I know you consider me as a kid still but do you think your kid can't notice your tears I know mom how every night you cries I used to think in childhood you got hiccups because you're thirsty but later I understood that those hiccups were not because of your thirst but because of your hidden tears am I wrong mom me : I think you misunderstood something princess princess : yeah mom because only four people know about your tears every night one you, two your pillow, three me and four that god as per the reason for your tears only two people knows one is you and other one is that god me : ple

It's as if he can see the pain in my eyes and knows exactly what I'm going through. "Bella," He sighs, and it's like he just turned on the faucet for my tears. The emotions well up within me, and I can't hold back the flood of tears that stream down my cheeks. I did not plan on crying, but his sympathetic gaze pierces through my defenses, evoking a deep sense of sadness that overflows into tears.

Haya's pov I bit my tongue, trying to hold the tears that threatened to leave my eyes and that's when I can't hold them back. first, one small crystal bead escaped from my right eye, I can feel the warmth sliding down my cheeks and rolling off my chin, then another and another until my eyes flooded with them, coming like a rainfall. My brother walked towards me that's when I burst out into tears because I couldn't take it any more, I sobbed into his chest clutching his jacket and he held me in silence.

what did I ever do to deserve being treated like this. Right now the tears are pouring out of my eyes that I can't even see right, I thought I had no tears left to cry but it seems there's a surplus supply of them, my heart is broken no that's the wrong word it's shattered. I'm angry because I don't want to cry but they keep coming no matter how much I try to stop it I can't. that annoys me because I can't even control my tears.

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.

she spits, tears burning her eyes. I inhale. My body wobbles and the invisible thread holding me in place breaks. My eyes hurt. Tears well up and a single tear drops and rolls down my cheek.

His eyes were red, watery, and exasperated. But he's not showing a manly side to him just to prove he is capable of killing me. "I'm sorry…" I said, looking downward. "If something bad has already happened, does your sorry could bring them back?" he asked. "Think about it." I can't help these tears again. Why are my tears won't scarce? It always has a supply. Are my eyes only made with the purpose of crying? I can smile too. using these eyes. The little tears turned into a bursting cry.

I clung to the hope that perhaps, in the release of my tears, I would find some semblance of healing, some semblance of peace. The tears continued to flow, each one carrying with it a fragment of my shattered dreams. I mourned for the life I had once known, the vibrant spirit that had now been eclipsed by uncertainty and fear. The weight of my tears felt both cleansing and exhausting, as if with each droplet, I shed a layer of my anguish.