Burns (sequel to bruises)
He enveloped me in his arms, his touch warm, as it always had been.
He kissed the side of my throat, the spot where my pulse throbbed in a steady rhythm that became quicker when he kissed it, and his kiss was the same as it always had been.
He smiled when he straightened himself and his smile was bright and contagious, as it always had been.
His eyes, though, had changed. The blue still resembled my brothers', the twinkle was still there like the first evening star but the look in them was unexplainably different.