~Damon~
Some months passed, and I still wake every morning with the same memory seared into my chest. I remember the warmth of her body draining in my arms, the way her blood covered my hands, staining them so deep I thought I would never feel clean again.
I remember how her lips parted like she wanted to say my name one last time, but no sound came out, only blood, and the silence was louder than any scream I have ever heard.
I remember pressing my forehead against hers, begging her to stay, commanding her to live, and realizing that even all my strength, all my rage, all my power could not stop death from reaching for her.
That night did not just take her away from me, it hollowed me out. It carved me into something that pretends to breathe but has no soul left to burn.
Every day
