π¦ββ¬ retweeted
the blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.
A soft gasp.
He was bleeding. Shitβ¦. The crow had a bleeding wingβ¦. A look down to his side as he scurried into the shadows. The contract was complete.
Butβ¦. This was not over yet. Blood seeped through the spaces of his fingers.
π¦ββ¬ retweeted
thereβs blood on my hands & i canβt wash it off. thereβs blood on my hands & i canβt wash it off. thereβs blood on my hands & i canβt wash it off. thereβs blood on my hands & i canβt wash it off.
/ always π₯°
mortis.xn--6ii do you guys ever just think about davrin
That makes the crow laugh. βI would like to see that.β He purred, hands moving off of her hands. βSurprise me.β He said, moving away from her.










