Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,
A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly,
A flower that dies when first it gins to bud,
A brittle glass that's broken presently,
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour.
So my love for you would be more than superficial. Besides haven't you heard? Beauty is in the eyes of beholder. And I have already found beauty in you.
- A
After pushing the note through Christian and Daniels door, Athena walked to what she now referred to as the Blake manor.
