No one seemed to notice how this boy feared the dark, his round eyes were the main entry to the world where the most beautiful lies seemed to live in.
Minho was his name, son of a God that once walked into the universe you know you made his eyes burn, his fingertips filled with warmth and the quivering whisper that latches against your own lips are the fatal traces that makes him so undeniably delightful under the eyes of the unknown creatures.
Every day, it’s a new life for him, captured by the sunlight rays which drag his body, reluctantly, through the woods’ untouched linear path. His feet barely touch the leaves left behind by the four winds of last year, but his eyes…his eyes cage the shadows that before were laced by the string of his dreams. Dreams which turned into nightmares, a constant fight to welcome the pure surface of his own world, sweet in senses … bitter in reality.
The son of a God, such an ordinary boy, would you really believe if I told you he is not like the others?
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