reserved at
ataraxion
Jun. 18th, 2014 01:57 amShould I slip my skin, would the game we played begin anew? [Her smile begins as one of pure amusement, but the expression hardens.] Do not say I miss them. Do not say I miss him.
He chose to follow in the footsteps of his father. I cannot love such a fool.
[Yet the sad part is she does.]
I grow weary of your presence. Go.
He chose to follow in the footsteps of his father. I cannot love such a fool.
[Yet the sad part is she does.]
I grow weary of your presence. Go.