Going against the wind
i see him settling himself
He, from afar, suit such background
Like an angel who came down from heaven
She was in her bed holding her diary and pen. She didn't mean to write that since its about him. Her hand was working like it was in auto pilot. Whatever she say or think in her mind is being written by her hand.
What angel?! He's Hades' son!
Ruffling her hair, she decided whether she should remove it. No her mind said so. She groans frustratedly. Before she could decide her mind said SLEEP.
She never got to tear that paper from her diary.
