Butterfly Weeds Read Online Free PDF

me. The moon was almost full, and the light reflecting off of it lit up his face just enough to make those blue eyes of his subtly visible. He really was gorgeous – the kind of subtle gorgeous that you found once you ripped away a childhood of rock-throwing, the kind of familiar gorgeous that could make you melt if you weren’t too careful. And his smile – that was his secret weapon. It had always been – even if I had never let him know that I had thought so. I was pretty sure he could solve all of the world’s problems with just that one, sweet smile of his.
     
                  I watched his irises make a line from my lips to my eyes. Then, in one gentle motion, he carefully tucked the few blond strands of my long curly locks that had lain to rest on my cheekbone behind my ear. His soft tou ch attracted my full attention.
     
                  He paused then for a couple more seconds, presenting me with just enough time to take everything – his sultry lips, his warm, blue eyes, his seductive smile – and bottle it all up, for safe keeping, of course. Then, as if there were no turning back at that moment, our eyes met, and he leaned closer, and hovered over my lips. My heart pounded, and the now, welcomed butterflies flocked in by the millions. But this time, there was no lanky boy to interrupt them.
     
                  I felt his lips finally meet mine, and I surrendered to his soft, gentle kiss.
     
                  I smiled when his lips eventually withdrew from mine. My heart continued to pound as he kept his piercing blue eyes on me. He seemed to be taking in my joy, just as I was taking in his. I probably could have run a marathon right then and still have been standing a t the end, smiling and unfazed.
     
                  “You gonna be my butterfly forever?” he asked me then, softly, almost a whisper – his voice raspy, but comforting.
     
                  “Your butterfly?” I whispered, smiling, though a little bemused.
     
                  “Yeah, you’re as beautiful as a butterfly. C’mon, you know you want to be,” he coaxed playfully.
     
                  I laughed gently.
     
                  “Well, you’ve never asked it that way,” I whispered softly. I was thankful that he pro bably couldn’t see me blushing.
     
                  “Does that mean yes ?” he asked, grinning.
     
                  I paused for a moment.
     
                  I felt his hand take my hand as he intertwined his fingers with mine. I surprisingly loved the way my hand felt in his – loved and safe.
     
                  “That means yes ,” I confessed softly, allowing a smile to span across my face.
     
                  “That’s what I’ve waited my whole life to hear,” he said, smiling, as he kissed my forehead and t hen retook his place beside me.
     
                  We returned to unreserved silence then, as if emptying our souls without a word. It was funny how the same lips that had always incited so much speech – usually scolding – could also take it away so effortlessly. And now, with the silence, I couldn’t help but replay the previous set of moments in my mind over and over again – as if confirming their reality, as if verifying that it was, in fact, Will Stephens sitting beside me, the same Will Stephens that had been just another menacing boy a week ago – before I turned back toward him.
     
                  Yep, it was him – the same guy. He looked so different now.
     
                  “You still never told me what you wished for,” I whispered into his ear.
     
                  He turned and faced me again.
     
                  “Well, since it came true, I guess I can tell you. That is how it goes, right?” he asked playfully.