𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 || 𝕟. 𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕚

~ ? ~

Riki touched the sky and never came back.

You loved him.

It's late now. Too late.

It's not your fault that you couldn't help but watch from a distance as he died little by little by little.

Now he's gone and you can't watch at him anymore.

You can't watch that beautiful, broken boy, with the beautiful, beautiful smile.

Sometimes you turn your face towards the sky and let your eyes absorb the blue of the atmosphere.

And sometimes you catch a wispy grey cloud dancing through the sky, a cloud the color of rapidly cooling cinders tapped from burnt-out cigarette butts.

The color of his eyes.