The white sheep of the family
Letting out a huff of bitter laughter, Loren nodded at Weaver's words. "You would think. But everyone seems to have an opinion on what I should do and who I should be." It came out as exasperated as his laughter had.
Shrugging, he continued toying with his mug. "You can't be any worse than the other people I turn to for advice." He gave her a faint smile, though this time his tone was self-deprecating. Biting his lip, he looked away. "I'll work on that." He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly unconvinced of his ability to find his self-worth.
Thankfully, the kiss was a more than welcome distraction. He made no move to deepen it. Instead, he simply reached out to cup one of her cheek gently in the palm of his hand.
Shrugging, he continued toying with his mug. "You can't be any worse than the other people I turn to for advice." He gave her a faint smile, though this time his tone was self-deprecating. Biting his lip, he looked away. "I'll work on that." He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly unconvinced of his ability to find his self-worth.
Thankfully, the kiss was a more than welcome distraction. He made no move to deepen it. Instead, he simply reached out to cup one of her cheek gently in the palm of his hand.
Will blood tell
