Blade’s expression only seems to harden as he holds you against his chest. it doesn’t feel warm as it used to. now, all he feels from your presence is a hurtful cold.

with a sharp exhale, the man shoots you a glance. how many times have the two of you slept together, only to have you run off without another word ? you claim to love him, but if that’s the case… why do you refuse to become official?

he shakes the thought away, forming a sentence slowly. his words pierce through the silence — sharper than any knife.

“…i think this’ll be the last time we meet.”