‍ ‍ ‍. . . ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ✷

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝚒 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝕽𝐀𝐆𝐄 ⚡︎ ✩°⋆⸜ ! ָ࣪ ✷ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ even⠀⠀ the⠀⠀ 𝗶𝗿𝗼𝗻 ； ݁⠀ᛪ༙ ˚. still fears the 𝘳𝘰𝘵 hiding⠀⠀ from 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 .͟.͟ ݁⠀ᛪ༙ ˚. i cannot 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ didn’t⠀⠀⠀ realize⠀⠀⠀ i⠀⠀⠀ had⠀⠀⠀ such⠀⠀⠀ a⠀⠀⠀ big⠀⠀⠀ fan⠀⠀⠀ ❨ .͟. ❩⠀⠀⠀ how⠀⠀⠀ about⠀⠀⠀ an⠀⠀⠀ autograph *☨ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ and⠀⠀⠀ in⠀⠀⠀ its⠀⠀⠀ brevity,⠀⠀⠀ its⠀⠀⠀ tragedy…⠀⠀⠀ this⠀⠀⠀ has⠀⠀⠀ been⠀⠀⠀ made⠀⠀⠀ eternal.⠀⠀⠀ ❨ .͟. ❩⠀⠀⠀ better⠀⠀⠀ this⠀⠀⠀ way…⠀⠀⠀ to⠀⠀⠀ fade…⠀⠀⠀ with⠀⠀⠀ your⠀⠀⠀ eyes⠀⠀⠀ gazing⠀⠀⠀ upon⠀⠀⠀ me ♱⃕ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ you⠀⠀⠀ need⠀⠀⠀ a⠀⠀⠀ lesson⠀⠀⠀ on⠀⠀⠀ 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯⠀⠀⠀ 101 ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ❨ .͟. ❩⠀⠀⠀ luckily⠀⠀⠀ for⠀⠀⠀ you,⠀⠀⠀ i⠀⠀⠀ have⠀⠀⠀ an⠀⠀⠀ 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀⠀⠀ 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆⠀⠀⠀ ♱⃕ ⠀

⠀ . . . 𝘨𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 . ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ❛ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 .ᐣ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ' 𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝙷𝙴𝚁 . ❜ ⠀ ⠀

when my death begins, i wanna know that i was dying for you. / i died for you.

people speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider's webs. it's not. hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestones in her hair.