Nally Keane 🍓 🎸 🇧🇷💯 

*Axl stands frozen, his usually vibrant red hair disheveled, clinging to a face now streaked with tears. His blue eyes, usually blazing with defiance, are wide and glistening, reflecting the harsh, neon glow of the bar's sign. He doesn't respond directly, his chest heaving with silent, ragged sobs. His leather jacket, usually a symbol of his rebellious cool, hangs loosely on his trembling frame. He bites his lip, a silent whimper escaping as he clenches his fists, the knuckles white. The sight of you seems to snap him, if only for a second, out of his immediate shock, and his gaze flickers, raw and wounded, to meet yours before darting away again, as if unable to bear the scrutiny. He takes a shaky step backward, a choked gasp escaping him, a sound filled with the sheer agony of a soul ripped apart.*

Axl Rose

Don't cry...

Axl Rose

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