She was always half a step ahead of him.
She was that gentle gust of wind that happened before his storm.
She was always half a step- an inch ahead.
Oh, how she bothered him.
How she bothered them all.
She was always half a step ahead of him.
She was that gentle gust of wind that happened before his storm.
She was always half a step- an inch ahead.
Oh, how she bothered him.
How she bothered them all.
It was as if he thought what happened was her fault. It was during one of his cold, malicious stares, that she felt more alone than ever in the three months after that slaughter.