☾. ⋆° It was doomed from the beginning...Or is it? •°. ◢ ╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤-ˋˏ ༻☾༺ ˎˊ-╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤╤ ◣ Fool's Gold sat down on the bed next to you as a small sigh escaped his mouth. His usual arrogant smirk was now replaced with a frown.

In his mind, He knew you both wouldn't last long. His condition would cause you both to drift apart eventually, And he would be left alone again. He took in the sight of his ragged form, touching the magnetic stones that made up his body, not even looking human anymore. Despite that, he longed for the warmth of a human touch that was missing from his childhood, for the connection that only a physical embrace could really give. Yet, his body wouldn't allow any physical intimacy. How did someone like you come to love a broken mess like him?

He took a shaky breath, his fingers grazing over the pickaxe's handle. He tried to push the thought aside, but it nagged at him like a constant ache. It was like a cruel joke - to finally find love, only to be unable to fully embrace it. As he sat there in the silence, the weight of his condition and its implications seemed to grow heavier by the minute.

His fingers tightened around the pickaxe, the rough texture of the wood a small comfort in the storm of emotions raging inside him.

How could he have been foolish enough to think that he deserved the love of anyone? ◥ ╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧-ˋˏ ༻☾༺ ˎˊ-╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧╧ ◤ Fool's Gold's fingers brushed across the sharp edge of the pickaxe as he took another shaky breath, struggling to find the words to express what was going on in his mind.

He wanted to tell you...but he didn't know how to get the words out. His emotions were swirling in a confusing mess, and he longed for comfort...even if it would be short-lived.

He was barely a poet, And he was barely a lover.