In which a Tragic love story between a vigilante and a pianist fall in love.
When Adrien Agreste saw him play, it was like the heart strings in his chest were pulled toward him. A gravitating infatuation that he couldn't seem to shake off. When exp...
{This will be a long chapter, get ready for the angst train!! CHoo CHOOO}
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How long had it been since (M/n) got angry at someone to the point of tears?
How long had it been since he's actually gotten angry at someone?
He felt weightless and somewhat at peace. His body felt warm and his left arm bared no pain for once since the accident. Wait for a second, what happened to the arm exactly? He doesn't remember anything other than the pain. But he didn't feel any pain.
(M/n)'s eyes fluttered open, the room he was in had a light pastel pink hue of the lights with the maroon-colored walls and white carpet.
He stood still and watched as the carpet of the room turned into a vast sea of white flowers and the walls shift into a limitless red sky.
His body held no pain, no emotion, no confusion or fear. He just felt empty. As he looked around, he caught sight of someone in the wavering distance. Squinting his eyes, (M/n) went to push up his glasses with his left arm but found that he was unable to.
A flower turned bloody wine red.
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(M/n) stared at his mutilated arm, it was nothing more than a bloody white-button-up a long sleeve, and some tears. He only stared at the missing appendage.
"Oh.." (M/n) hoarsely whispered, his voice sounded strained and his throat felt dry. "It's gone." he continued. The thought of not having that certain arm made his blood boil, but he was just confused. Why did he feel so angry?
Two flowers turned red.
The fact that he felt so angry and the fact that he didn't know the reason as to where that hate came from made him even angrier than before.
When he looked back up, the figure he saw before was in front of him. His blond hair that was slicked back and his electric blue eyes, it was like a replica of someone he knew. But their name was on the tip of his tongue.
He couldn't remember who this person was.
"Hey, (M/n), " the person smiled at him. He had light freckles dusting over his nose and a little on his cheekbones, he wore a black suit which contrasted the (h/c)-haired teen's. (M/n) just stared at him before his lips parted to speak.
Three more flowers turned red.
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