You told her to keep living. Never to give up, never to bat an eye at the responses. She had appreciated the advice and told you she would hold it with her forever. But the words faded from your heart the night you found her. The cold touch of her skin ran chills down your spine as you knelt down frozen by her image. Blood from the running wound on her damaged wrists ran down her skin and into your brain as you kept the image. Locked away and buried was where your heart was, remaining from that cool November night, as the love of your life faded from the world. Her head was buried in the soft touch of winter, as the Twilight smiled down on you most nights after. Your heart knew it was her every time. For Twilight was her favorite color.