by Ƨнα∂σω Ƙιƨƨ » Sun Jan 16, 2011 6:34 am
Synyster got a damp towel, and walked to her, lifting her chin up to gently wipe away the paint from her cheek, and smiled softly, "Yes, I'm sure. You seem so happy when you paint," he mrmured, kissing her forehead. He'd deal with it. Just as long as she was happy.


So what if I can't forget you?
I'll burn your name into my throat
I'll be the fire that'll catch you
What's so good about picking up the pieces?
What if I don't even want to