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“The best of things move on swift and silent wings, look closely dear and you can have it all, but beware my love, for even angels fall...”
“Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice a dangerous growl. “Who hurt you?”
“To everyone else you’re like this perfect little doll, but I can see how fractured and torn apart you are inside,” he breathed. “I can see the cracks in the perfection. I can see the poison that’s tainting your essence. And every break, every scar and burn and fissure in your soul only makes it more beautiful. Only makes you more perfect to me. This pain is strength. This agony is beauty.”
But the earth would still turn whether the moon was watching or not. Maybe she likes the company though.”
