Those voices.
Again.
Luciano pressed his fingers against his temples, struggling to hold back the sing-song words spoken to him since the beginning of eternity.
They sung of mocking hyms, reminding him of the world outside that had loathed him so much.
Why?
That was the question he had pondered ever since.
Was it because of how he looked?
How he acted?
Who he was?
But Luciano knew himself that he wasn't like the rest of the people, he wasn't the same as the crowd that had cast him out.
He was different.
Luciano gazed at his reflection in the polished glass of the small window. A pair of red-tinged magenta eyes stared back. They seemed to glow with a soft light, tinted with blood, in the light of the crescent moon that shone, ever-so-gently overhead.
There were no stars tonight. The moon was clothed behind a silk lace of misty cloud that spread through the whole night sky, shielding the delicate, celestial orbs from prying eyes.
Those ruby eyes still stayed.
His eyes.
So red, they were.
So full of the hidden hatred, the bleeding resentment from the long, countless years of desolation.
That's who you will be forever.
Why?
You can't escape.
The moon shone a melancholy glow over the world below, blurred by the foggy shroud of clouds.
You can't.
YOU ARE READING
bAd?
Fiksi Penggemar(( a Hetalia fanfiction )) (( 2p Italy-ness )) (( a veryveryvery short story ))
