Watching the unstoppable tears stream down Lawrence's face, the suffocating anger in Bonnie's chest inexplicably began to dissipate.
But she was still pissed.
"I'm the one who got treated like garbage! I'm the one you yelled at! I'm the one who had to walk home in the freezing snow! What the hell are you crying for?" she snapped.
Lawrence had a lifetime of words trapped in his throat, but how could he possibly explain? She would never believe something as insane as his time-traveling consciousness. Besides, why burden her with the horrifying trauma of their past life?
He would shoulder that agonizing weight alone.
Lawrence reached out, pulling Bonnie effortlessly across his lap. This time, she didn't fight back. Yielding to his touch, she nestled into the crook of his arm and tipped her head up, staring at his tear-stained face in baffled confusion.
No matter how explosive their fights used to get, Lawrence had never cried.
And beyond that, Bonnie could sense a distinct shift in him. She couldn't quite pinpoint it. It was still him, yet the entire energy radiating off him felt foreign.
It was his aura. His eyes.
Bonnie stared deeply into his gaze. The wet shimmer of his tears magnified a profound, overwhelming tenderness in his eyes. He didn't blink, locking onto her with a raw intensity dripping with affection, devotion, and borderline reverence. It was a look she knew intimately. It was that exact undeniable devotion that kept her securely anchored; if she ever doubted his love, she would have dumped him ages ago.
Biting her lower lip, her resolve crumbled. His tears had completely washed away the sharp edges of her temper. "You're actually crying," she muttered softly. "You're so annoying."
Lawrence's eyes softened entirely. His Candie had always been a forgiving, sweet-natured girl. He had barely done anything, yet she had already forgiven him in her heart.
But he had trampled over her softest vulnerabilities, repeatedly driving a knife into her fragile trust.

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