The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display
a morbid painting on display
Hotaru submits herself to Maeve’s searching gaze, but even she doesn’t know what the Madame will find. There is only the numbness left inside from too many bonds broken and cauterized. The only way to ensure she didn’t bleed out after losing so many. It is an icy retreat into her mind, a crystalline palace that soothes the burning ache of a ripped soul. Maeve’s touch feels very far away, but at least her mind is present. Enough to tell her that she must do what comes next.
Hotaru gives a small squeeze of her fingers, listless but there all the same. Her tongue is thick, but the words must be said. “No, Maeve. You have to leave me entirely. Do you understand?” Tilting her gaze upward to stare into the woman’s seaglass eyes even as her hand rips at the budding roots of this new bond between them. “Rebuild your life here. Forget about me in every way you can.”
Hotaru gives a small squeeze of her fingers, listless but there all the same. Her tongue is thick, but the words must be said. “No, Maeve. You have to leave me entirely. Do you understand?” Tilting her gaze upward to stare into the woman’s seaglass eyes even as her hand rips at the budding roots of this new bond between them. “Rebuild your life here. Forget about me in every way you can.”
This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides
Buried at each others sides
