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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
She didn't make him better. She made him.

Submitted: October 12, 2016

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Submitted: October 12, 2016



His delirium was delicately tended by her deification. You would say she was weak but the sail that remains during and after the raging storm is over, is a proud shroud and the satin in rags is no less than the most beautifully adorned robe. The fire that burnt him rejuvenated them as one. Something that could’ve proved to be his pyre was the flaming throne for them as one being. He was the sun alone and she made the galaxies darker enough to let his sole light command. He didn’t ask because tides don’t take the permission from celestials. He rose as high as he could completely aware of the source of pull against the stronger one inside him that wanted him down.

She didn’t make him better, she made him. He was proud of her creation.

He knew that if there ever lingered another storm, they would be the epicentre. If the world blazed again, they would be the vicious fiery rain.

© Copyright 2018 Da-emise. All rights reserved.

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