{✮}— As glass-like eyes opened once again, the angel couldn't see nothing but black and red --the decors of a victorian-styled room, with curtains covering the window and the bed where he was laying, surrounding him as a sense of fear and worry started to crawl his winged spine.
How could such thing happen --being in a place he didn't know, in a room that wasn't his own, the lack of familiar voices making him feel as lost as millennias ago. Choking sounds came from his lips, feeling something invading the inner walls of his mouth, forcing himself to swallow whatever it was and feel it burn all over his throat.
Head spinning, vision becoming a confused blur, he tried to crawl --wanting to see where he was, and eventually leave. . . if he could.


















