[2] Grief
The Book of Fear
Elora had been a wound that couldn’t scar. A tear that couldn’t fall.
She had been a hand desperately holding onto a rope at the bottom of the pit.
She had been loneliness, sometimes emptiness. Most of the time, she was both. And all she had been able to do was to watch herself rot a little more every day.
Looking at her was like staring at his own crooked reflection. A mirror broken beyond repair.
“I love you.” Sehun said knowing the only reply he would ever get was silence.
Then, finally, they took the coffin away.
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