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The Fledgling Artist

“Only death, could pull away a hand as steadfast and loyal as hers, and unclasp it from my own. It’s like, when everyone else was done with you, she’d still be there… for some reason. I know I’ll never forget that.”
A smile touched the corners of his mouth. The sort no one else could really see, but you could just sort of, feel it. In that moment he almost believed all the stories she had told him. Maybe it wasn’t for nothing. Maybe.
“May the Faeries guide her soul.”

"Though I'm not yet who I will be, I'm no longer who I was."

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