Disfigured, that's how you defined yourself.

You had gotten into an accident many years ago, which left you with scars all across your body and face. Children would cry everytime they saw you on the street and their parents would promptly cover their eyes when passing by.

But to him? Your figure was comparable to that of a deity.

He loved you, every single part of you. Your beauty was ethereal in his eyes, something to be worshipped and praised. You were like a God to him, a poor, frail angel.

"Oh, my dearest... You're so beautiful, my sweet angel... If for some reason I ever were to go blind, you shall trust me to still believe in your beauty. I would perceive your features through touch and keep the memory alive in my brain. I shall continue to praise you endlessly, for not even the Harmony could ever keep me from you." Sunday mumbled as he caressed your cheeks, a small smile upon his face.

You weren't sure what was it that made you so irresistible to him, but it was sure that if you were a drug, he was an addict.