limps to me, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. They shine like stars, it's as if she pulled them down from the sky. Her face is red, from cold and crying, and she's rubbing ferociously at her nose to stop it from running.
atlas sat impatiently on the chair situated in the corner of the throne room, swishing his glass of scotch around.” his thick irish accent echoed. “i don’t know yet,” i sighed, placing my crown on my head, “but it will be brutal.
Xx- A pain that comes in rolling thunder clouds, that billow and expand with every gust of wind and pain. Clouds that have been black and blue like my skin, and internal representation of my damage, or the pain my veins contain.