edythe woodwork + beau zabini — breath
Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky And so I became the butt of the joke I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down Maybe I’ve stormed out of every single room in this town Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now It’s brighter now, now






















