The Gab (gab) wrote in shinahil,
The Gab

  • Mood:

of a dark destiny

Things weren't supposed to happen like this. Not this. Not now.

Every breath drawn felt empty and weighted with guilt, as if the very act of breathing were wasting precious moments or borrowed time. Borrowed life.

He knelt down, there among the softly scented roses and let the stolen breath escape his lungs, closing his eyes in its sweet caress. Everything is wrong... His world, everything, shattered in a single evening.

And he, with no idea of how to mend the situation.
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