Lady-GaGa-Fan-Club

Marry the Night He clasped her face, one hand weaker, and kissed her with a fiery passion that could not be rivalled. Her hands instinctively buried themselves in his brown hair. One moment his face was above hers, then all she could taste was him and his sacrifice. He had given much of himself for her rebirth. He was a shadow. His blood ran through her veins, burning her from the inside out. This was a vision, she a spectre, it couldn't last. It wasn't possible. He felt his life being dragged from the pit of his self, deep inside, he felt himself draining. She felt it too and wrenched herself away, hands over her cursed mouth. Her back smacked against her tombstone and she stared at him. His face lined with untimely wrinkles, his hair now thin and greyed. She did this to him. She was a monster. He whispered: “I've gone mad.” “Yes.” “This is real ….” “I can’t stay here.” “I know.” He never looked away from her face, even as dawn approached, two shining lines of