Irisa wanted to explain to him that she was not a pretty picture. She was not a project to work on or something to fix. She was a mess, a mistake, a beautiful tragedy. She was a story – just as every other person in the damn town. With every scar on her body she was screaming, with every tear she shed she was praying, praying for release.
But she would not let him in. She would not succumb to his sweetness. She would not be betrayed by a kiss, and she would most definitely not swallow the lies that sat on her plate.
Irisa used to think she should have come with a warning label. She used to think that she destroyed everything she touched. But now she saw. Now she saw that it was not her, it was the monster that came in and wrecked everything she knew and loved. She let go of hope.
But now, now hope and love grew arms to reach her when she was running. They wrapped her in love that she had hoped for oh so long. And they wouldn't let her go.
So now Irisa understood. She understood what all the pain was for. There was a purpose for it and now she was able to give her love back to him. And that was worth it all, and more.