He wasn’t the kind of guy all the girls fell for. He wasn’t tall but he wasn’t short. His hair didn’t swoop nor was it the perfect shade brown, and he lacked a flawlessly chiseled body. But despite all this, he did have a chiseled soul, so incised that its only explanation was buried within the hammer and nail of God himself. He had freckles on his shoulders, and his teeth weren’t perfectly straight. But damn, the way his eyes wrote novels when he caught her looking at him through the cracks in the crowded room was enough proof of a fiery soul and wicked mind for anyone who dared to notice.
“Maybe reading was just a way to make her feel less alone, to keep her company. When you read something you are stopped, the moment is stayed, you can sometimes be there more fully than you can in your real life.”