~🐦Crushed Flowers🌻~ {Discontinued}

💬Nighttime talks🌟

Hunter was sitting next to Willow, enjoying the stars.

"I love you." Hunter whispered leaning into Willow's shoulder.

"Hunter..." A cold hand gripped onto Hunter's shoulder. In the blink of an eye, he was wisped back to the palace. 

A hot breath hit his neck, and the grip. It wasn't the grip of his girlfriend.

"Belos?" Hunter turned around, facing his uncle. Sometimes, Hunter would wonder if his escape to the human realm was a dream. And sometimes, he wished it was. 

And this time, he was sure it was a dream.  

"I'm very proud of you. Taking out the whole town, very smart." Belos's voice was intriguing yet intimidating. 

"What?" The realization hit Hunter. He's talking about the town. The town I set aflame. They were all wild witches... They deserved it! Right...

In a few moments Hunter was seemingly teleported to the snow. 

"HOW COULD YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH A WITCH! YOU GOT HER PREGNAT!" Hunter wasn't himself. He, he looked like that statue in the middle of town. Caleb Wittebane.

Hunter's ey e turned to piercing dots as Belos stabbed a knife right through his gut.   

"Bye, bye Caleb!" Belos took the knife out stabbing him again.

"HUH!" Hunter jolted up in a cold sweat. He was in the hotel, laying cuddled up to his girlfriend. Willow.

He sighed, every night this happened. And every night he would convince himself that he never really went to the human realm. 

Hunter cast a sad glance at Willow. She was sprawled out on the bed, holding Hunter's hand and torso. 

Every night this happened. And every night Hunter would go "sleep" On the couch, but he never fell asleep. Only lying awake till around 4:00 am. 

Turning to the small digital clock, Hunter figured out it was 1:21 am.

Every night this happened. And every night Hunter would silently sob, hatting himself for what he did. Hatting himself for looking like Caleb. Hatting himself for loving Willow. Hating himself for still being alive.

Hunter gazed over to Flapjack sleeping on his nightstand. He got up heading towards the living room.

Every night this happened. And every night Hunter would hate himself. And every night Hunter knew he didn't want to go on. If he had no porpoise, then was he really worth anything?

Hunter didn't want to live anymore. Brooklynn, she was one of the many reasons why. If Hunter had to make a graded essay on why he should die. It would get a 101/100. 

He layed himself on the empty couch, going over why he was an awful person. Just like every night. 

And every night, Hunter would tell himself he should die.

A gentle hum disturbed Hunter from his thoughts. 

"Hunter? Dear." Willow was walking out of the bedroom. The moonlight seeping into the large windows, reflected off of her.

"Yeah." Hunter sniffed up tears. Not sitting up.

"Why do you wake up so early ever night?" Willow walked over to the couch.

"I don't know... I just don't sleep well. I guess." Hunter shrugged. He really didn't want to bother Willow so early. 

"Well, you can always talk to me." Willow leaned over, giving Hunter a peck on the cheek.