Canvas - Z.M
- Leituras 618,541
- Votos 29,714
- Capítulos 57
Nothing but intoxication.
Nothing but a cold soul in the middle of the night, when the moon is at it's highest and his glass is at his lowest.
When his hand raises, it's enough for me to beg on my knees.
It's enough for me to fend for myself, to stop myself from saying anything that intensifies his anger, to stop him from going any further and worsening his canvas.
My body - his canvas.
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*A LOT OF THESE AREN'T MINE!* I will try to write the author if I can :) If you have any short sad stories you want me to add please inbox me:) Thanks!
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