⌕fallen angel.

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7.5k words: a synopsis of acts: fluff, subtle angst, pondering on the past, sadness, concealed identities, confusion, flirting, doubt, the topic of loss, grieving + potential more. mind errors + vote!

Through all the distant parts of traffic, you remain glancing out of the window, intaking the traffic that overwhelms the other side of the road. Despite you being guided by the silence, unable to check your phone.

As your car stretches further down the ample road, you are greeted by a vast amount of flashing lights, leaving you to harbour yourself in your car.

The flashing lights effortlessly blind you as you raise your bag, endeavouring to cover one side of your face. But to no avail. The exclamations, the wails of your name, they are an undying sea. An eternal sea of cooked-up chaos.

"Dóloraè!" Such a name brings a sense of stress to wash over you. It wasn't that you remain disheartened by your fans, but you solely disdain the concept of paparazzi.

They tail your every move, stain their presence within your business, stone your heart and every pure motive. You hate them, with a might that's justified.

A smile and wave are distributed by you as a lot of people glance with admiration, fond of the beautifully kempt sight of you. You remain licked upon with beauty, even in the beautiful white floral dress you flaunt. A dress that holds a connotation you were unwilling to uncover to discover the ropes of freedom.

To free your mind.

All eyes desperate linger upon you, but they are eyes that fail to capture the attention of a man you are unsure of whether you adore or loathe. Attention you are unable to sense is set to cater to a part of you. A part of you that fails to unravel a slightly buried history.

"I love you all," You softly exclaim, in awe at all of the t-shirts that many wear of you. They were unfathomable t-shirts, ones that left you in exquisite awe, particularly as you remain a diligent role model for many misplaced children and squabbling adults.

You had made an impact on the world.

As the car moves at a steady pace, you plaster a soft smile upon your lips, being sure to not expose an ounce of sadness that bubbles within you. A part of you yearns to maintain a positive image, being sure to allow the world to view you in a lighting that gave them hope — despite hope being robbed from you. You didn't desire to tatter your image, not once would you enable that to occur.

GUARDED ; eren jaegerWhere stories live. Discover now