He was a chaotic mess of cigarette cancer innards and grimacing features.
She was a fresh-flower stained princess, crafted of star shine eyes and a billowy shape.
His fingers would caress the curve of her cheek, sliding down to grip at the indents of her body – touching, squeezing, loving.
Her eyes would flutter to a close, freckle stained chest rising and falling with intoxicated butterflies.
"I love you." He would say, day in and day out.
She would only smile