#Chapter44
Blake's P.O.V.
Oz smiled and his face struck my heart with the force of lightning.
Beauty became him; the early morning sun caressed his cheek like the tentative touch of a lover, leaving kisses of gold seeping into his flesh. He had turned in his seat, watching me through eyes that held the ability to rewire my heart, tuning it to a new beat: a beat that drummed just for him.
He watched me the way that a blind man would upon seeing a sunset for the very first time. He watched me with silent admiration. Sometimes, it wasn't clear if he was aware that I was far from perfect. I wasn't sure if he saw that I, like so many others, was just another faulted being.
