supple , tender . a mother’s touch . fingers ghost , lingering across his cheek . bitten cherry lips , malleable in a sense / some saw beauty but never rage . nothing could part , nothing would ever change it . her heart was filled , heavy and laden with a burden that was not hers to carry (but when did that ever stop her ?).
❛ i don’t care what you were . above all , you are my family . ❜
DEAD two years today , tommy oliver lay RESTING next to his mothers ’ body . the order grieved , the grand master drank . a world believing that the oliver boy had perished from illness . yet he stood here , alive & well , with A WOMAN he calls HIS MOTHER . her scarlet lips lingering on his cheek , a heavy blush flourishing .
for he is undeserving of her LOVE . he is the product of his fathers ’ creation , HE IS A TEMPLAR , born & bred . A TRAITOR & SCUM . ❛ yet i may deceive you , as i have done to my father BEFORE YOU ❜