Her bruises lay a top her skin like butterfly kisses. Her scars etched into her skin like peices of a broken memory. Her view of the world was clouded by violence and pain. And yet he still thought she was beautiful.
Wet Cigarettes
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eleven
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twelve
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thirteen
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fourteen
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fifteen
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A/N
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sixteen
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seventeen
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eighteen
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nineteen
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twenty
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twenty one (werewolf edition)
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twenty two
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twenty three
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twenty four
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twenty five
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twenty six
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twenty seven
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twenty eight
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twenty nine
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thirty
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thirty one
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thirty two
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thirty three
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thirty four
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thirty four
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thirty six
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thirty seven
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thirty eight
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thirty nine
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forty
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forty one
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forty two
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forty three
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forty four
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forty five
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forty six
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forty seven
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forty eight
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forty nine
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fifty
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fifty one
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fifty two
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fifty three
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fifty four
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fifty five
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fifty six
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fifty seven
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fifty eight
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fifty nine
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sixty
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sixty one
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sixty two
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sixty three
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sixty four
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sixty five
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sixty six
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sixty seven
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sixty eight
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sixty nine
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seventy
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seventy one
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seventy two
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seventy three
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seventy four
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seventy five
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seventy six
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seventy seven
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seventy eight
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seventy nine
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eighty
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eighty one
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eighty two
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eighty three
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eighty four
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eighty five
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