love isn't fair | KTY

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His eyes showed the kind of gentle concern my grandfather used to have.

He laid his hand lightly on my shoulder, and instead of flinching like I usually did, I was soothed by it.

He left his hand there and spoke with such a soft voice I felt his words calming me more by the way they were said than the actual words. It felt as if I were wrapped in a blanket of his caring.

How could I not consider my actions now, now that I could see how profoundly they effected him too.

He was a large man, wearing a loose grey suit, and sprawling in the large grey arm-chair. The soft lamp-light fell on his head, across which his jet black hair glistened. His eyes were shut.

How could i hurt him?