❛ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 '𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐄'𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓! ❜
⸻ when the enigmatic boy transforms
the redhead's quiet life into a dangerous
world of freedom, leading her t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DECEMBER 22nd, 1990
THE DOORS OPENED. A beam of light from outside illuminated the entire gold-decorated room. The melody played on the piano echoed through the church to the meticulously crafted high vaulted ceilings. Light poured in through the stained glass windows, coloring the sweet atmosphere.
The scent of lavander was in the ar from the flowers scattered around the empty church. There were candles everywhere and the little flames swayed gently to the beat of his accelerated heartbeat.
He felt a sense of peace and excitement like never before. He felt like he was living a dream. The dream.
She glided down the aisle like an angel. A simple, long white dress glided across the floor, hugging the curves of her beautifully sculpted body. A man whose face was unknown, dressed in a black tuxedo, accompanied her to the altar.
As she approached, he saw something glittering on her, but he couldn't tell if it was the sparkling pearls on her dress or her sapphire blue eyes wet with tears.
It was Max. Her red hair was unmistakable, as was her soft skin. She wore a crown of flowers in her hair. He felt HIS cheeks flush as her blue eyes met his and a sweet, shy smile appeared on her sweet, red lips.
He couldn't see his own face, but he was probably grinning like a fool and shaking like a nervous fifteen-year-old on his first date.
He was in heaven and an angel was approaching him. He clearly saw her hands up close, with a beautiful diamond ring glittering on her finger. He reached out to grasp hers, feeling the soft, warm touch of her skin against his.
"Of all the crimes I committed, you are my favorite.All I have destroyed, all the trouble I have caused, was just to call you mine." He whispered in her ear, and she let out a shy laugh.
He prepared to kiss her lips, but before he could taste her smile...
...he woke up.
He became aware of his body, where he was, and opened his eyes.
He was facing a dirty, gray ceiling. It wasn't the ceiling, it was the top bunk. He was in that bed, lying on that uncomfortable mattress, covered with that thin, old blanket.
And Max wasn't there. The love of his life. The reason his heart was beating. He swallowed and felt the tears sting his eyes. His fiancée. She wasn't there.
The scars that covered his body meant nothing without Max.
Of all the crimes he had committed, she was undoubtedly his favorite. But loving her wasn't a crime. But of all the crimes he had committed, he was paying for them in the worst way.
