AntiqueGuard

No. The answer was no: he could not stand himself. He couldn't stand the way his hips curved in all the wrong ways, the sharpness of his shoulders, and the unmistakable bones protruding where he would rather be soft, ethereal, something kinder than the shape he'd been given. He wanted something else, something more. He wanted (more than anything) to shed this hideous shell, lay waste to it and rip apart his outer seams until there was nothing left but the quivering light that wasn't innately his own. A vulnerability he ignored for so long, cast aside for a facade of confidence and hell, it worked. It was working and no one was any wiser for