Book Margin
The book: Eden’s copy of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
He looks at me as if I am his entire world.
I don’t know what he sees in me, honestly.
I think I am too skinny to be beautiful. I can feel his eyes caressing my skin, heat erupting wherever they land, and I know he means it when he says he thinks I am gorgeous. But I’m looking in a mirror right now. All I see is black (cringe) hair tied up in a tight braid, empty brown eyes and shallow cheeks. I don’t see gorgeous—although what do I have to compare myself with?
Just this girl in the mirror.
My only friend.
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