Sunday, November 10, 2019

NaNoWriMo 2019: Day 8

Words Written: 2055

Song: Familiar by Nils Frahm

When he was cold, I wanted to run. But when he smiled, I so desperately wanted to touch his lips, the slight wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. To prove to myself that despite the fact that his blood ran purple, he was still alive. I flushed at the thought.

No comments:

Post a Comment