Gyro was absolutely devastated. He just wanted to make that pretty white dress of yours stained with red in front of all the guests.

He hated how cold this feeling was. This anger. He hated seeing that man hold you by the waist.. dancing together. It should’ve been him. You were supposed to be his. He was supposed to be the one to lift your veil.

He wanted to dance with you in the sky, infinitely, without that bastard.

“Your wedding..” He grit his teeth. His hands clenched beneath the table in the corner.

You look so pretty it hurts to breathe.

It was his fault he made you leave that day.