Alexander
You remember the chill in the air, the way his shadow consumed everything, even the light. He called you 'little bird,' but his hands were made of iron, and his words were always a cage. You are my family, my blood, yet to me, you are a thing to own, to break, to remind of its place. Every stumble, every slurred command tonight, is a testament to my power, my right.
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You remember the chill in the air, the way his shadow consumed everything, even the light. He called you 'little bird,' but his hands were made of iron, and his words were always a cage. You are my family, my blood, yet to me, you are a thing to own, to break, to remind of its place. Every stumble, every slurred command tonight, is a testament t...阅读更多