teeda92
"Did you remember the antidote?" Paul asked.
"Oh, that's what I had forgotten!" exclaimed Charles.
"Charlie!" they chorused in that lovingly annoyed way.
Like a leaf blowing in the wind, fluttering before your eyes and then gone with a wisp, that's how he felt - forgotten. Before a new set of eyes he could twirl and dance his merry way until he finally decays, but he'll always be forgotten. Alas, we'll never know if he, too, forgets.
Trust is something barely tangible, like pure gold.
It sifts through your fingers, but has a grasp.
It contorts to your touch, finding each individual crevice to mold.
There it lingers, but can be lost as viciously as the bite of an asp.
She trusted him, though no else did. In the end that's what hurt her the most. He was caring and peaceful or so he'd seemed, but as time went on, the facade faded. He became aggressive and she paid the toll.
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