text: She wondered how it had come to this. There was boy whose eyes were as dark as the deepest abyss, and burned her like hell fire. There were days when she thought he might of loved her. Those were the days where his eyes weren't quite so scorching, but more like a pleasant warmth, like you would get from one's fire place. His touch would dance across her skin, playing a master piece only he could see and only she could see, as notes bloomed in his wake. He would be her protector, her kind, wonderful, protector. The one that would keep the demons at bay, while allowing his own to ravage him. His smile would be as sweet as a summer's day, and his kiss would be divine. Other days she wasn't quite sure. Sometimes, not only his eyes, but his words would burn her to the bone. His touch wasn't a master piece, but a disaster. He would rave and writhe and curse her, scream at her, and collapse in on himself and sob. There were days where he would taste like blood and ash, and she would wonder briefly, boy of mine, where have you been? There were days where she knew she loved him. Those were the days when he would smile and teach her to fly across the roof tops, or teach her to waltz to music that they could only hear, music that could no longer play in the world they lived in. He would tell her stories of the days before this, of the ocean and of him. He would bandage her knee if she fell, and hold her if she cried. He told her he thought her wings were beautiful, as molted as they were. She knew she loved him then, and there were no days where she could truly bring herself not to (but she wouldn't admit this if he asked.) Sometimes she wondered when her life became a walking cliche. He wondered when he had become so naive. When they finally found them (of course they would find them, they always knew their days were numbered, so really it should be no surprise) They rip the remaining bits of her wings from her back, and he screams and she thinks, maybe he loves me after all. She wondered how it had come to this. She was falling towards the ground, wingless and numb, but in a weird sense, elated. (She was tired of playing this game.) She wondered why she thought she could ever have a happy ending. Because after all, the villain never got one. And the dragon never kept her prince.