He didn't love her
He kept telling it to himself as he was leaving as he grabbed his bag and left everything he knew.He glanced at the backpack that he had used to leave all he knew.Sharpie that barley showed covering the backpack saying who knew what.
Neitheir of them could remember what it said pins and patches littered the rest of it.It was for the best really this him leaving and repeating those words.He did not love her because a demon could not love a mere human.
He did not love the way you could never guess what hair color she had because she changed it ever month or the billions of shades of green in her eyes.Or the way she curled her hair each morning or the bows in her hair.He did not love the way she would laugh at a comedy or the way or the way she would flip the pages of a hundred year old book.
He didn't he didn't love that her favorite color was blue or that she was cranky in the mornings and cheerful at night.He did not love the songs that she would blast or the color of her favorite lipstick.He just didn't he didn't love any of that.
Maybe he could keep telling himself this just repeating those four words.You don't love her.The fact was he did he defiantly did love her.Yet he would keep telling himself those words because it was for the best.
((This is based off of a prompt but Im not sure if I have it anymore due to this was written awhile ago))
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Random little writings
RandomJust random things I write that dont actually have their own book Some will be based off of prompts if they are the prompt will be on the part or it will simply be said if I cant find the prompt
