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He couldn't breathe.
Ice cold. His lips were ice cold against hers. It almost felt possible to hide behind the clouds of his breath, fogging the misty air. Somehow in the very moment his heart beat against hers, everything would be okay. That he would come back home.
Flinging the covers, he jolted awake.
But he doesn't, he doesn't come home to her in the end.
Sweat covered his forehead, trickling down his hair. His chest heaved hard, capturing what little air he could and his heartbeat hammered on, thumping in his ears.
He couldn't return to her, trapped in a foreign world.
He closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands just to hide the tears streaming down his face, even when there was no one to see him.
And it killed him more, drop by drop. The blood that ran in his veins, the blood that drizzled onto the sink and the knife he held against his wrist.
He was alone with no one to run to and he knew so. The only thing he had were pieces, fragments of a life long gone. Ripped and stolen from his grasp.
His predicaments, he carried like a burden. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't forget, he couldn't remember and mostly, no matter how many lives he'd taken with his metal fingers, he couldn't even make a small slit.
All he needed now was escape, escape from his destined torment and if he couldn't end it all maybe, just maybe, there is a chance at redemption.
A probability that the girl reading this could be his savior, even if she doesn't know it yet.
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P L A Y L I S T : I L L I C I T ⌁ affairs || carmen980 on spotify
W A R N I N G :
- this work may induce uncontrollable smiling, sleep deprivation, chronic fangirling and feelings of perpetual pleasantness.
