night. it was tord's favorite. he sighed and rested his cheek on the windowsill, smiling and watching the stars, as if they were moving.
he rested in his small beanbag chair, pulling a hair tie off of his wrist. he randomly put his hair in a small ponytail, pulling his hair back and revealing a small birthmark on his forehead, or scar, he couldn't tell at this point.
the night's air made him feel so calm, a small smile forming on his face by now. that was when he looked at his right arm. misplaced. dead. removed. it was just a stub now, covered with a poor bandage.
he sighed once again, feeling weak. his appearance was lousy, just like his lacking emotions and attitude. he coughed and soon closed his window, making his way to his bed. it isn't fair, he thought. it isn't fair that I get to suffer while they live their lives to the fullest.
he was stuck in that retched base — full of the baddest of memories. he mesmerized them all, resting horribly that night. he felt like a dead man.
a/n
oof he s a d ™️
-nikolai🇨🇳
