Live With It

We walked into a completely trashed room. Te bed was torn. Creepy posters hung on the walls, the paint on the white dresser was peeling with different colored waxes dried and perpetually dripping down the sides.
“Why are we here?” I said.
“I committed a lot of sins in this room.” Emelia said unfeelingly, absorbed in the untold history of this tiny room.
“Oh.” I said.
Golden light was filtering into the room, but it only contrasted the overall darkness of the room.
I felt a thump near me. I looked over at Emilia, her face buried in the torn and filthy sheets, her fingers tightly laced together.
She’s praying.
I silently knelt down beside her, letting the tattoo on burn itself from my back.
I let my dark wings stretch and put one around Emilia’s shoulders.
I started praying.
So this is what it’s gonna be, from now on. I can live with that.

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