It was in a cold December night when the fire of the candles that kept the warmth of our relationship died out. The red wax melted on the cold ground and its shape unrecognisable, ugly.

It left us, cold and seeking for the protective blanket that only our other half could provide. It was fleeting; enchantingly short bliss that we would never forget.

I guess I wouldn’t.

A/N: Another story, entirely different from three stages. This is a one-shot though. Well I hope this captured your interest.

~TheCherryBlossoms