07-10-2013, 07:25 PM
Miya watched with some level of detachment, and some small mix of pride and worry. Pride, because she was responsible and he seemed to be doing well on his own for a start; and worry, because again, she'd be responsible for him until he guaranteed he could do well on his own. She realized she had no idea when she'd first fed - she had limited memories of her childhood. Perhaps that was for the best.
I stare at the girl in the mirror: T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen.
But the way that you see me, you get underneath me, and all my defenses just fall away, fall away.
I am beautiful with you, even in the darkest part of me. I am beautiful with you;
Make it feel the way it's supposed to be!
You're here with me: Just show me this and I'll believe I am beautiful with you!