Sometimes I Draw Things

I love that scene and the sweep up from the pyre into the night sky

tears run through my veins

-

! Not my art, my commission !

He studies her then, those dark, doe-like eyes roving across her face. She lets him, stills herself and meets his gaze. The awe will not leave her, and the echoing memory of this precise scenario in the cellar presses against her: she, drinking him in, a testament to glory she cannot fully comprehend but recognizes at once; he, looking down at her beatifically, untrammeled by hesitation or the architecture of social graces that would deny them such communion. 

He is here. 

@maul-appreciation-week Day 5 : "Rainstorm"

Why holding tears in a rainstorm? even if you are not crying, drops of water will fall from your face anyway...just let them fall to the ground.

Extinction. Digital.

Still wip