𝐌𝐑. 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐃.
bubblegum daydreams linger against his macchiato skin, paper hearts setting themselves on fire. he digs his nails into his palms, streaks of red running down the sides. it was the birth of another cursed soul, and the feeling would remain in his veins throughout the bittersweet evening. he wants - no, he needs - the taste of blueberry ice on his tongue to dissipate before more memories start blossoming throughout his mind. those lips of hers, the rosy tint of that smug smile, is still etched into his head. pain blooms like a rose in the dark corners of his heart, cherry-red cheeks painted with drying tears. and for a second and a half, he watched everything fall apart right before his very own eyes.
