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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