{Seven}
A letter,
I received a fucking letter.
But of-fucking-course it could not have ANY information on it.
Now I still do not know where you are,
I know that you are alive, I quote the words in the letter: 'when we have a break, he cries about you'. That must mean that your alive, right? Otherwise, you would not cry.
Fuck
Why can't you just write me a letter? It is not that fucking hard; I am doing it right now.
The pen is falling on the paper with a soft sound, a louder sound is echoing through the room as I let my head fall on the table next to the letter.
I sighed and took a deep breath in through my nose, smelling the sweet vanilla scent flowing through the room, I look up and see the small beige candle slightly burning. The fire almost dying, that is what makes the scent so strong.
When it's gone it is better, the fire dies, the smell is stronger. Your gone, the desire to have you is bigger than ever.
YOU ARE READING
I need you here, why are you not here? If you're not here, where are you?
Historia Corta''I keep telling myself you are not a villain; you are just a boy. But somehow, I am always wrong. Cause you are a villain, you stole my heart and left with it.'' -Chapter Six TW: SH Alcholism Depression
