"Go." The Word Was A Whisper, A Plea. "I'm Not Leav-" "𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦." His Voice Was Shaking,

"Go." The word was a whisper, a plea. "I'm not leav-" "𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦." His voice was shaking, heat rippling his hair like a breeze, and when he looked over his shoulder at her, the bones of his face were glowing white hot, while his eyes were turning darker, black pressing in the flames.

I re-read some of my favorite moments from This Savage Song last weekend, and I felt the urge to draw my boy August once again- 😔👌 -ˢᶦᵍʰ- ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᶦᵐ

Instagram| Twitter | RedBubble

~ Please, do not edit or repost my art ~