Blood, kiss and death.

"Loving me, you took the risk of falling from Grace."

"It's worth the risk," pulling her into his arms, "...and you are my grace."

***

He met her amidst the blooming peach blossoms,

ever since then that incandescent shade of crimson remains the only color he tells apart,
from the rest of his sordid and sallow world.

One day, if God and His Grace ever so gently,
let him take the one thing that truly means anything to his existence
beyond the veil,

he would ask for a little petal,
that lived the color of the day he met her.

~Myst~