1927, Philadelphia
'Cause that day in my life...
That day in my life...
~*~
Edward knows he's asking for it, courting it closer and closer -- his eyes turning shot thorough golden and then black, the shadow in the hollow of his eyelids a bruised purple -- but there is nowhere else to turn now.
Every road and path before it had been crossed off, every extra minutes' or days' or weeks' compromise he broached within himself was yet another bridge he was too angry (too tired, too alone) to consider managing from where all the days of yesterday had left him.