Once, there was a time when Moulin had felt such excruciating pain. A pain that was not inflicted on part of his body. There were no wounds. There were no bruises nor broken bones. Before that pain was happiness. Pure, untainted, and filled with light. Like a massive tornado of blazing fire. Sparks flying in the air. Crackling in the silence. It was beautiful as it opened the sky. This was his happiness.
If only he knew how short it would be. How it would instantly disappear without knowing.
Back in his previous life, the man who he had spent his childhood within the orphanage with, the man who he only loved in his life when that man turned and left to find another. It was like a nail drilling into his bones. Leaving him numb from all the pain.
