A shuttered sigh escapes a frown marred mouth, as a tired head rests against a well used pillow. The house is unnaturally quiet unlike the nightmare fueled energy of nights past. "Have I done wrong by him?" Asks a whisper rough voice. But as always, the pretty face frozen within the photo frame just smiles happily, no words of comfort. "I wish you were here. You would know what to do for him," states a voice cracking with emotion. He sighs, his eyes closing as his hand stretches to the opposite of the bed; a side that has been empty of the warm body he craves to have back.
requested by shadowstiles