green flames, soaked in pine tree essence

twist and turn, shape and shift

crackle in slytherin's fireplace.

let the tongues of fire devour my aquamarine eyes

possess and poison them with haunting nightmares that only appear after the clock strikes midnight.

rabastan's corpse was still fresh in my mind

skin as white as heaven's halls

sticky strawberry syrup running down his hands

a dagger forgotten on the bathroom's floor.

death.

oh, how much i hated death.

how delicate the string of someone

life was ─ words were enough to cut it

like a pair of golden scissors.

i was scared to find myself gasping for air, lungs filled with liquid stars and orbs

the shade of poseidon's aquatic palace turning the pale colour of melting ice.

you took a seat beside me,

offering me a mug filled with butterbeer.