Christian is quislai quixotic, blue-eyed sweet and knighted arrogance. He looks as good in armor as he does in Armani. He would rather play guitar in a coffee house than dance onstage for thousands of screaming girls, but he has a “job” and a “wife” and he doesn’t compromise a thing. He imagines his family on solstice nights and rides with the wind. Tonight, girls scream. More will scream when they find their parents dead, but he will be long gone, living it up on a tour bus like the rock star that he isn’t. He’s just a soldier.
1 comment:
Woot!
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