Summary: What would i do without you, my love?
Clothes staind with the pure blood of a fallen angel.
Sanity breaking along with this image.
Holding him gently, afraid this thin, fragile body will fade away in my hands.
Blonde hair falls in his face.
His eyes refuse to open to the moonlight beaming from the jet black sky above.
Yet all this time he still has that stupid, fake smile playing on his pale lips.
You can only imagine who's POV this is from. And who he's holding.
Awwwe. My poor dearrrss.