1/31/2025, 1:19 AM
Geraint didn’t even know why they were sobbing. They weren’t the one struck down, they didn’t even find him. It was just words, at the end of the day. Words that had torn out their very heart, left it dangling out of their chest to drag in the mud until it hardened to stone.
They were far from the stone heart now, snot bubbling from their nose, every limb trembling, holding Nightingale so close if they got any closer they’d meld into him.
A creative sort, if the devils had any sense of humor.
They were far from the stone heart now, snot bubbling from their nose, every limb trembling, holding Nightingale so close if they got any closer they’d meld into him.
I don’t-They swallowed the damning crack in their voice, nevermind the tears still staining their cheeks. It was a vulnerability they had only ever shown to Nightingale, the heart their mother wished they didn’t have.
If it is heaven..I shouldn’t be here. They didn’t say it, but it hovered like a storm cloud over their head. Every blink felt like their eyes were made of sandpaper. What if this was a hell? A hell where they’d have to watch their husband leave them, over and over again? What cruelty could come to them in a field as beautiful as this one?
A creative sort, if the devils had any sense of humor.