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....