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Flame
Runaways
drabble


He'd burn for her.

Has.

Both in the poetic sense, of love and passion, a raw need to be with an angel.

And in a very literal sense, as in having his wings and skin charred off by an explosion.

All for her of course.

He'd do anything for his Lillie.

He'd let madmen screw metal wings to the place his own majestic ones had once been. Now that they're stumps. His face a map of scars, his hair gone.

He's lived a hundred years for her, done her every request, for a smile. He's more machine than man, all for the woman who never saw him.

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November 2009

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