All your life has been set in stone.

Wake up. Eat. Study. Pose. Rinse and Repeat. Twice daily. Thrice daily.

Your smiles are planned. So are your laughs. So are your words.

Typed up in new times roman and slipped under your door. 12 point. Double space. Until every little detail, every little quirk, has been smoothed out and plastered over. Time and time again. Like, drywall, you think. Or cold and hard like marble. Like the prison you dare to call home.

Eventually it all blends together, untill up is down, and down is up (or is it the other way around?), until you're trading days for years. Until your eyes have glazed over and you barely pay attention.

Until you blink, and suddenly you are him.

Until before you know it, you're running around in hardened shadow, a precious little golden boy covered in storm clouds. There is darkness in your fingertips. Something ancient. Cataclysmic.

You have never been allowed to destroy before.

Never even allowed to make mistakes.

But it gets better.

Because you aren't alone, because as much as there is him and now he is you, there is also her and she is more perfect than you will ever be. Because she is sweetness and light and creation, and a raging fire all in one. Because she's the yin to your yang.