She was a statue carved in marble. A smooth mockery of perfection as her stone hand pressed and caressed the warm skin of yet another secret lover.
I am freezing. Or maybe it was my cracked heart.
Did the chill bother them? Would they leave like the rest? Be someone who couldn’t stand the cold? Her world was cracking and falling apart.
Sigh, Again.
And she fucking hated knowing it was always her fault.