❝how can we imagine a world without words and pain? ❞
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the white bedsheet turned crimson slowly, his scarred hand laid beside the growing stain. for him that stain was an art. an abstract art of longing for the one he lost.
heavy breaths, closed eyes, dry chapped lips into a painful soft smile. his body, sprawled on the bed like a dead ballerina. Alive.....
no matter how much he tried, fate wanted him to live. countless time he would try to give up but next day he still remained. oh how much he hated that. but always questioned why he lived when he shouldn't have. which one is worse- living or dying?
he closed his eyes waiting for his old friend to come and visit him again. maybe it wasn't time to leave yet. there is something more for him to live for.
it wasn't death that he wanted, it was pain...
YOU ARE READING
my eyes | kth
Fanfictiona blink of an eye and a heavy breath that's what it all took to make him lose it all. ────────────────── ❝ in the very depth of hell, do demons not love one another?❞ ─manx
