68.
The food is cold as I reach home. I don't eat it. Neither do I change to my pyjamas. I just lie down on the bed waiting for sleep to take over. And just two names echo inside my ears.
Maxon.
Aiden.
Aiden.
Maxon.
Maxon.
Aiden.
Beautiful names.
YOU ARE READING
Blue
Short StoryHer solace was the tears she shed in the middle of the night, when she knew there was no one to listen to her sobs or notice her wet pillow.. He found salvation in the blood that often oozed out of his hand. When their paths meet, will the blood be...
