❛ no one. it don’t matter. just piss off, alright ? ❜
gaze cuts from the bathroom mirror, washrag pressed to the split in her lip. the basin is stained, streaked with blood spat from her mouth, and an air of bitterness punctuates the silence between them as she pulls back the cloth, tonguing the wound as if expecting it not to pulse and ache beneath even the lightest amount of pressure. she never forgot how it felt, to bear so many cuts and bruises at once. but if he thought this was bad, he should see the other guy.